<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147</id><updated>2009-03-01T03:33:44.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nonna Land</title><subtitle type='html'>I love spending time with all of my family, and cherish the memories that we have made together down thru the years. You will probably read much more than you would ever want about my grandchildren, they are my heart, I love them so much, and you will be seeing lots of family pics. I love taking pics, I just don't like being in them. Well that is what Nonna Land is all about, I hope you enjoy what you see and what you read.  Come back anytime you wish. May God bless and keep you, Love ya's Nonna</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-2031113895760606709</id><published>2007-08-03T11:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T11:52:35.972-04:00</updated><title type='text'>CLC - I'm A Pentecostal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/6vd_C5KX_lk' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/6vd_C5KX_lk'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I love this video.   Sis. Pam&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-2031113895760606709?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/2031113895760606709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=2031113895760606709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/2031113895760606709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/2031113895760606709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2007/08/clc-i-pentecostal.html' title='CLC - I&amp;#39;m A Pentecostal'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-1668242965872277958</id><published>2007-03-19T13:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T12:41:37.756-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Slap</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="430" height="389" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://s123.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid123.photobucket.com/albums/o311/sophie7602/TheSlap.flv"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-1668242965872277958?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/1668242965872277958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=1668242965872277958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/1668242965872277958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/1668242965872277958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2007/03/slap.html' title='The Slap'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-1747986556659786350</id><published>2007-03-19T13:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T13:26:34.459-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cup Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="430" height="389" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://s123.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid123.photobucket.com/albums/o311/sophie7602/TheCupGame.flv"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-1747986556659786350?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/1747986556659786350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=1747986556659786350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/1747986556659786350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/1747986556659786350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2007/03/cup-game.html' title='The Cup Game'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-288878054590133494</id><published>2007-02-11T15:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T15:58:08.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some of my favorite songs</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; margin-left: auto; visibility:visible; margin-right: auto; width:450;"&gt;&lt;embed style="width:435px; visibility:visible; height:270px;" allowScriptAccess="never" src="http://www.profilemusic.org/mc/mp3player-othersite.swf" menu="false" quality="high" width="435" height="270" name="mp3player" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" flashvars="&amp;config=http://www.profilemusic.org/mc/config/config_green.xml&amp;playlist_url=http://www.profilemusic.org/loadplaylist.php?playlist=3307464" border="0"/&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.profilemusic.org&gt;&lt;img src=http://www.profilemusic.org/mc/images/create_green.jpg border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.profilemusic.org/standalone/3307464 target=_blank&gt;&lt;img src=http://www.profilemusic.org/mc/images/launch_green.jpg border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.profilemusic.org/download/3307464&gt;&lt;img src=http://www.profilemusic.org/mc/images/get_green.jpg border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-288878054590133494?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/288878054590133494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=288878054590133494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/288878054590133494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/288878054590133494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2007/02/some-of-my-favorite-songs.html' title='Some of my favorite songs'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-5451206676134443524</id><published>2007-01-21T21:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T21:46:19.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cameron and Kaidynce</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://apps.rockyou.com/photofx.swf" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="lt" width="452" height="358" wmode="transparent" flashvars="imgpath=http%3A//img078.rockyou.com/photofx/4/4568/4568350/4568350_3ad8e3ac1169433322.JPG&amp;glitterp=true&amp;roundp=true&amp;sepiap=false&amp;theme=statueofliberty.swf&amp;shadowp=true&amp;bevelp=true&amp;width=452&amp;height=358&amp;imageWidth=452&amp;instanceid=4568350&amp;userid=7567114&amp;createDateString=Jan%2021%20%2707&amp;username=Nonna" name="rockyou" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer "/&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com?type=photofx&amp;refid=4568350"&gt;&lt;img alt="RockYou PhotoFX" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/images/logo-mini.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;a target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/photofx/?refid=4568350"&gt;Get Your Own&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-5451206676134443524?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/5451206676134443524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=5451206676134443524' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/5451206676134443524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/5451206676134443524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2007/01/cameron-and-kaidynce.html' title='Cameron and Kaidynce'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-63358348908086481</id><published>2007-01-21T21:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T21:33:59.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trey and Kaidynce</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://apps.rockyou.com/photofx.swf" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="lt" width="452" height="630" wmode="transparent" flashvars="imgpath=http%3A//img111.rockyou.com/photofx/4/4568/4568166/4568166_a38318121169433150.JPG&amp;glitterp=false&amp;roundp=true&amp;sepiap=false&amp;theme=confetti.swf&amp;shadowp=true&amp;bevelp=true&amp;width=452&amp;height=630&amp;imageWidth=452&amp;instanceid=4568166&amp;userid=7567114&amp;createDateString=Jan%2021%20%2707&amp;username=Nonna" name="rockyou" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer "/&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com?type=photofx&amp;refid=4568166"&gt;&lt;img alt="RockYou PhotoFX" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/images/logo-mini.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;a target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/photofx/?refid=4568166"&gt;Get Your Own&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-63358348908086481?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/63358348908086481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=63358348908086481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/63358348908086481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/63358348908086481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2007/01/trey-and-kaidynce.html' title='Trey and Kaidynce'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-6882232518066411652</id><published>2007-01-21T21:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T21:30:13.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kaidynce and Aleigha at Thanksgiving 06</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://apps.rockyou.com/photofx.swf" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="lt" width="452" height="359" wmode="transparent" flashvars="imgpath=http%3A//img168.rockyou.com/photofx/4/4567/4567461/4567461_de72f7941169432489.jpg&amp;glitterp=true&amp;roundp=false&amp;sepiap=false&amp;theme=&amp;shadowp=true&amp;bevelp=true&amp;width=452&amp;height=359&amp;imageWidth=452&amp;instanceid=4567461&amp;userid=7567114&amp;createDateString=Jan%2021%20%2707&amp;username=Nonna" name="rockyou" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer "/&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com?type=photofx&amp;refid=4567461"&gt;&lt;img alt="RockYou PhotoFX" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/images/logo-mini.gif" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;a target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/photofx/?refid=4567461"&gt;Get Your Own&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-6882232518066411652?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/6882232518066411652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=6882232518066411652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/6882232518066411652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/6882232518066411652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2007/01/kaidynce-and-aleigha-at-thanksgiving-06.html' title='Kaidynce and Aleigha at Thanksgiving 06'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-8857115925443965623</id><published>2007-01-20T10:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T10:18:33.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Good Morning family and friends,&lt;br /&gt;   I hope this finds you all doing good on this cold, frosty morning.  We are doing good here in our little corner of the map.  Lelia the pics of the new road were real good.  I can't wait till it opens with a straight shot from Williamsonto Pikeville.....boy then we can be in Pikeville real quick.   That will be the berries!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;   Well not much going on here this morning, it is so quiet with Trey gone, he has been at his Mamas since Monday....I miss the little monkey, Cameron misses him too.   Cameron ask if we could go get him but at this time I can't get up on Adriana's hill to get him.   Her hill is nothing but ice, you see she lives at the North Pole, lol!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;   Well I gotta fix Cameron something to eat, I just wanted to say "good morning" to each of you.  Have a good weekend and go to church somewhere.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Love ya's and May God bless   Pamela/Nonna&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-8857115925443965623?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/8857115925443965623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=8857115925443965623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/8857115925443965623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/8857115925443965623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2007/01/good-morning-family-and-friends-i-hope.html' title=''/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-3035184427096023596</id><published>2007-01-16T19:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T20:00:56.649-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I love this story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A Beautiful Story....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry,to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn , arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very rundown and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc, and on December 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished. On December19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade,ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus.. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet.. "Pastor," she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?" The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;EBG&lt;/span&gt; were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the Tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. He was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home, that was the least he could do.. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return. One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison.. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride.They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True Story - submitted by Pastor Rob Reid Who says God does not work in mysterious ways.. I asked the Lord to bless you as I prayed for you today,to guide you and protect you as you go along your way. His love is always with you, His promises are true, and when we give Him all our cares you know He will see us through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when the road you're traveling on seems difficult at best.. Just remember I'm here praying and God will do the rest. Pass this on to those you want God to bless and don't forget to send it back to the one who asked God to bless you first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When there is nothing left but God, that is when you find out that God is all you need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May God bless,  Sis. Pam&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-3035184427096023596?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/3035184427096023596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=3035184427096023596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/3035184427096023596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/3035184427096023596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-love-this-story.html' title='I love this story'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-6895054954511522819</id><published>2007-01-09T19:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T19:29:03.887-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Love You Forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll Love You Forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;by Robert Munsch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she held him, she sang: I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living my baby you'll be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;The baby grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was two years old, and he ran all around the house. He pulled all the books off the shelves. He pulled all the food out of the refrigerator and he took his mother's watch and flushed it down the toilet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;Sometimes his mother would say, "This kid is driving me CRAZY!"But at night time, when that two-year old was quiet, she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;looked up over the side of his bed; and if he was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. While she rocked him she sang: I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living my baby you'll be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;The little boy grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was nine years old. And he never wanted to come in for dinner, he never wanted to take a bath, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;and when grandma visited he always said bad words. Sometimes his mother wanted to sell him to the zoo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;But at night time, when he was asleep, she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, looked up over the side of his bed; and if he was really asleep she picked &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;up that nine year old boy and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. While she rocked him she sang:I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living my baby you'll be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;The boy grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was a teenager. He had strange friends and he wore strange clothes and he listened to strange music. Sometimes the mother felt like she was in a zoo! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;But at night time, when that teenager was asleep, she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, looked up over the side of his bed; and if he was really asleep she picked up that great big boy and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;While she rocked him she sang:I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living my baby you'll be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;That teenager grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;He grew until he was a grown-up man. He left home and got a house across town.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;But sometimes on dark nights the mother got into her &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;car and drove across town.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;If all the lights in her son's house were out, she opened his bedroom window, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;crawled across the floor, and looked up over the side of his bed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;If that great big man was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she rocked him she sang:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;My baby you'll be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;Well, that mother, she got older. She got older and older and older. One day she called up her son and said, "You'd better come see me because I'm very old and sick." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;So her son came to see her. When he came in the door she tried to sing the song. She sang:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always...But she couldn't finish because she was too old and too sick.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;The son went to his mother. He picked her up and rocked her back and forth, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;back and forth, back and forth. And he sang this song:I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, As long as I'm living my Mommy you'll be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;When the son came home that night, he stood for a long time at the top of the stairs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;Then he went into the room where his very new baby daughter was sleeping. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;He picked her up in his arms and very slowly rocked her back and forth, back and forth, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;back and forth. And while he rocked her he sang:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;As long as I'm living my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;baby you'll be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I bought this book when my children were little and I used to read it to them....It made me cry then and it still makes be cry whenever I read it.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-6895054954511522819?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/6895054954511522819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=6895054954511522819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/6895054954511522819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/6895054954511522819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2007/01/ill-love-you-forever.html' title='I&apos;ll Love You Forever'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-116128022697146596</id><published>2006-10-19T13:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T13:50:26.983-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/Picture%20395.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/Picture%20395.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praise the Lord! My Daughter-In-Law, Antonia....repented, got baptized and was filled with the Holy Ghost. Thank you Jesus. My son, Dustin also got a refilling of the sweet Holy Ghost....we are so happy about this. They live in Hampton VA. Dustin is in the Navy and Antonia is an RN (nurse). They are attending Bro. Jared Arangos' church in NewPort News VA and they love their church very much already. I just had to post my Praise Report on my blog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-116128022697146596?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/116128022697146596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=116128022697146596' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/116128022697146596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/116128022697146596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/10/praise-lord-my-daughter-in-law-antonia.html' title=''/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-116127967270735861</id><published>2006-10-19T13:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T13:41:12.720-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Things you wish you knew about me: ( I think)&lt;br /&gt;1. What time is it now?  4: 05 pm&lt;br /&gt;2 Name:  Pamela Jean Fields&lt;br /&gt;3. What are you most afraid of?   Dying and leaving my grandchildren&lt;br /&gt;4. What do you drive?   Ford Freestar&lt;br /&gt;Where is # 5 at......I wanted to answer # 5...LOL!&lt;br /&gt;6. Where were you born?   South Williamson,  Kentucky&lt;br /&gt;7. Ever been to Alaska ?   No, but I have always wanted to go there.&lt;br /&gt;8. Ever been toilet papering rolling in decorating trees?   No&lt;br /&gt;9. Croutons or Bacon bits?   Croutons&lt;br /&gt;10. Favorite day of the week?  Sundays&lt;br /&gt;11. Favorite restaurant:    probably Johnny Corinos or Olive Garden.....we have neither here where I live, so it gives me somewhere to go eat when I visit my family that lives out of town.&lt;br /&gt;12. Favorite Flower:   daisy&lt;br /&gt;13. Favorite sport to watch:   Figure Skating&lt;br /&gt;15. Favorite Ice cream:   Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;16. Disney or Warner Brothers :    Disney&lt;br /&gt;17. Favorite fast food restaurant:   Subway&lt;br /&gt;18. What color is your bedroom carpet?  gray&lt;br /&gt;19. How long did  you date your mate before marrying them?  almost 4 yrs.&lt;br /&gt;20. Before this one, from whom did you get your last e-mail from? AL&lt;br /&gt;21. What do you do most often when you are bored? Mess around on the computer&lt;br /&gt;22. Bedtime:   Cameron is asleep by 11:30 and me usually by 12:30.&lt;br /&gt;23. Who will respond to this email the quickest?   Samantha, Lacey Kyle&lt;br /&gt;24. Who is the person you sent this to that is least likely to respond?  Mary Ann&lt;br /&gt;25. Who is the person that you are most curious to see their responses:  Antonia and Para&lt;br /&gt;26. Favorite TV show:   Shark&lt;br /&gt;27. Ford or Chevy:   a Buick, but I drive a Ford&lt;br /&gt;28. What are you listening to right now?   Sponge Bob on TV with my grandsons&lt;br /&gt;29. What are your favorite colors?  Peach&lt;br /&gt;30. How many tattoos do you have?  None&lt;br /&gt;31.  If magic, which world problem would you cure first?  I don’t believe in magic&lt;br /&gt;32. Which came first the chicken or the egg?  I would say the chicken, God made all the animals and placed them on this earth, then I suppose the chicken started laying eggs.&lt;br /&gt;33. What would you like to accomplish before you die?  I just want to live life to the fullest&lt;br /&gt;34. How many people are you sending this e-mail to?  Not for sure, there are a lot of them.....mostly family!&lt;br /&gt;35. Favorite quote:   "Life sometimes hands us Lemons, take those lemons and make lemonade out of them".   Another one that I like is, "Catch ya on the Flip side."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-116127967270735861?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/116127967270735861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=116127967270735861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/116127967270735861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/116127967270735861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/10/things-you-wish-you-knew-about-me-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-115458205251229662</id><published>2006-08-03T01:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T01:22:59.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The way children see things........I just love these</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"The Way Children See Things " &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;DEATH: While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased. The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his Father always said: "Glory be unto the Faaaather, and unto the Sonnn ... and into the hole he gooooes." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;SCHOOL: A little girl had just finished her first week of school. "I'm just wasting my time," she said to her mother. "I can't read, I can't write and they won't let me talk!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;BIBLE: A little boy opened the big family bible. He was fascinated as he fingered through the old pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the Bible. He picked up the object and looked at it. What he saw was an old leaf that had been pressed in between the pages. "Mama, look what I found", the boy called out." What have you got there, dear?" With astonishment in the young boy's voice, he answered, "I think it's Adam's underwear!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-115458205251229662?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/115458205251229662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=115458205251229662' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/115458205251229662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/115458205251229662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/08/way-children-see-thingsi-just-love.html' title='The way children see things........I just love these'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114990299132877394</id><published>2006-06-09T21:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T11:06:00.293-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More Pictures of Kaidynce Jade......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Here are some pictures that were taken of Kaidynce Jade when she was anywhere from a couple hours old to a couple days old.  I will add more as I take them.  She already hates the flash of the camera, lol. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/Cameron_Kaidynce_Trey.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/Cameron_Kaidynce_Trey.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Cameron holding Kaidynce, Trey &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/Cameron_Trey_Kaidynce_Pa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/Cameron_Trey_Kaidynce_Pa.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Trey holding Kaidynce, Cameron &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/The%20proud%20daddy_Kaidynce.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/The%20proud%20daddy_Kaidynce.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The proud daddy holding Daddys' little girl&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/HPIM0311.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/HPIM0311.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cameron, Trey and Kaidynce Jade&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/Mommy%20and%20Baby%20girl.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/Mommy%20and%20Baby%20girl.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mommy looks so happy with her little girl?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/Pa%20and%20grand-daughter.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/Pa%20and%20grand-daughter.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pawpaw holding his little Sunshine! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/HPIM0318.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/HPIM0318.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nonna's little Angel doll&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;May God bless and keep you all safe....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114990299132877394?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114990299132877394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114990299132877394' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114990299132877394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114990299132877394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/06/more-pictures-of-kaidynce-jade.html' title='More Pictures of Kaidynce Jade......'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114990101797578254</id><published>2006-06-09T20:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T11:09:36.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a girl.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cameron and Trey, calmly awaiting the birth of their baby sister in the hospital waiting room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/Cameron_Trey%20waiting%20on%20Kaidynce%20to%20be%20born.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/Cameron_Trey%20waiting%20on%20Kaidynce%20to%20be%20born.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;"IT'S A GIRL"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/Nonnas%20little%20girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/Nonnas%20little%20girl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Kaidynce Jade Hackney&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;June 6, 2006&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;8:12 am&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;5 lbs. 11 ozs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;18 1/2 ins. long&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well here is a picture of my first grand-daughter......and boy am I a proud Nonna, LOL! She is so tiny, it feels like you are holding nothing more than blankies with her in your arms. She has the cutest little nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I will be adding some more pics of Kaidynce Jade in a day or so. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;God has blessed us with this precious little angel, and we pray that he also bless you in all that you do or say.....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114990101797578254?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114990101797578254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114990101797578254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114990101797578254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114990101797578254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/06/its-girl.html' title='It&apos;s a girl.......'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114763845901365142</id><published>2006-05-14T16:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T16:27:39.040-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mothers Day.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/Happy%20Mothers%20Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/Happy%20Mothers%20Day.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Child's Angel&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a child ready to be born. He asked God:"They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?"God: "Among the many angels, I chose one especially for you. She will be waiting for you and will take care of you."Child: "But tell me, here in Heaven, I don't do anything else but sing and smile, and that's enough for me to be happy. Will I be happy there?"God: "Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you every day. You will feel your angel's love and be happy."&lt;br /&gt;Child: "How am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me if I don't know the language that men talk?"God: "Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear. With much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak."Child: "And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?"God: "Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray."&lt;br /&gt;Child: "I've heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?"God: "Your angel will defend you even if it means risking her own life."&lt;br /&gt;Child: "But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore."God: "Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you."&lt;br /&gt;At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from earth could already be heard. The child, in a hurry, asked softly:&lt;br /&gt;"Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel's name."God: "Your angel's name is of no importance. You will call your angel ... Mommy." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114763845901365142?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114763845901365142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114763845901365142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114763845901365142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114763845901365142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mothers Day.......'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114624558911013032</id><published>2006-04-28T13:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-29T09:29:44.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am 48 today.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/Calla%20Lillies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/Calla%20Lillies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well today is my birthday, I am 48 yrs old. I am not feeling too good today, but I am so very blessed to be alive to celebrate a 48th year. Thank you Jesus for that blessing! In 1988, 18 years ago, this coming Fall I did not know if I would make it to this age or not because of some sicknesses that I had, I had a lot of wonderful people praying for me and I had to undergo some biopsies, to find that instead of Lymphfoma (spelled wrong, but it is cancer of the lymph nodes) that I had Sarcoidosis, this was such a blessing, (Thank you God for your healing to my body) not only have I lived to raise my 2 children but I am raising my 2 little grandsons. I am so thankful to God for the blessings that he has given me in my 48 years. I have a wonderful church, that my husband pastors, they are very good to me and they gave me a very nice B'day gift, I have a wonderful family whom I love and appreciate very much. I have recieved several gifts from family and friends, and some of the most beautiful cards that I have ever seen, and I have recieved Happy Birthday calls all morning, there is only one email that I am still looking for and that is from my son, he is out to sea right now and can't call me.......a special Thank You to all that have sent cards, called or gave me gifts, I love you all very much and appreciate all that you have done for me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;May God bless and keep you all safe.........&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114624558911013032?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114624558911013032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114624558911013032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114624558911013032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114624558911013032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-am-48-today.html' title='I am 48 today.....'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114528102034610382</id><published>2006-04-17T09:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T09:37:00.366-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Praise God for the rain......</title><content type='html'>Bro. Jim ended up staying home  from work last night to watch the fire....I was getting a little worried around 2:30 this morning, I got up and looked out and from my upstairs bedroom window, I could see the fire, it was right there, I couldn't go back to sleep, our house sits with the clift right behind it and the fire was almost there, I was afraid that the sparks would blow over on our roof, it was so windy.  Then Praise the Lord, around 4:00 am it started to rain and it is still raining, isn't it wonderful how God sends just what we need right when we need it.  This is a bad time of year for forest fires.  I will be glad when forest fire season is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May God bless and keep you all safe,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114528102034610382?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114528102034610382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114528102034610382' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114528102034610382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114528102034610382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/04/praise-god-for-rain.html' title='Praise God for the rain......'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114386931318761579</id><published>2006-04-01T00:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-01T00:28:33.213-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lamb.....</title><content type='html'>Think carefully about what you will be reading:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary had a little lamb, His fleece was white as snow.  And everywhere that Mary went, The Lamb was sure to go.  He followed her to school each day, T'wasn't even in the rule.  It made the children laugh and play, To have a Lamb at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the rules all changed one day, Illegal it became;   To bring the Lamb of God to school, Or even speak His Name!   Every day got worse and worse, And days turned into years.  Instead of hearing children laugh, We heard gun shots and tears.  What must we do to stop the crime, That's in our schools today?  Let's let the Lamb come back to school, And teach our kids to pray!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114386931318761579?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114386931318761579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114386931318761579' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114386931318761579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114386931318761579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/03/lamb.html' title='The Lamb.....'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114382281179332721</id><published>2006-03-31T11:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T11:33:31.820-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wisdom from the little ones......</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/boy_girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/boy_girl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought these were just toooooo cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO TO MARRY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1) You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming.-Alan, age 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry. God decides it all way before, and you get to find out later who you're stuck with. - Kirsten, age 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;WHAT IS THE RIGHT AGE TO GET MARRIED?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1) Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by then. * Camille, age 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) No age is good to get married at. You got to be a fool to get&lt;br /&gt;married.-Freddie, age 6 (very wise for his age)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE MARRIED?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids.-Derrick, age 8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR MOM AND DAD HAVE IN COMMON?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Both don't want any more kids.-Lori, age 8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1) Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough. * Lynnette, age 8 (isn't she a treasure)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) On the first date, they just tell each other lies and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date. - Martin, age 10 (wise beyond his years)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;WHAT WOULD YOU DO ON A FIRST DATE THAT WAS TURNING SOUR?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I'd run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the&lt;br /&gt;newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns. * Craig, age 9&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1) When they're rich.-Pam, age 7&lt;br /&gt;2) The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with that. - Curt, age 7&lt;br /&gt;3) The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do.-Howard, age 8 (this one has very good morals)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;IS IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1) It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them.-Mike Schaffer, age 4 (bless you child)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;HOW WOULD THE WORLD BE DIFFERENT IF PEOPLE DIDN'T GET MARRIED?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1) There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there? --&lt;br /&gt;Kelvin, age 8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;And the winner is........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;HOW WOULD YOU MAKE A MARRIAGE WORK?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a&lt;br /&gt;truck. * Ricky, age 10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114382281179332721?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114382281179332721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114382281179332721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114382281179332721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114382281179332721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/03/wisdom-from-little-ones.html' title='Wisdom from the little ones......'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114381352915609355</id><published>2006-03-31T08:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T09:01:41.110-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This could happen to you.....</title><content type='html'>This could happen to you.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was barely sitting down when I heard a voice from the other stall saying: &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"Hi, how are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'm not the type to start a conversation in the restroom but I don't know what got into me, so I answered, somewhat embarrassed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"Doin' just fine!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the other person says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"So what are you up to?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What kind of question is that?&lt;br /&gt;At that point, I'm thinking this is too bizarre so I say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"Uhhh, I'm like you, just traveling!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;At this point I am just trying to get out as fast as I can when I hear another question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"Can I come over?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Ok, this question is just too weird for me, but I figured I could just be polite and end the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;I tell them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"No........I'm a little busy right now!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"Then I hear the person say nervously...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;"Listen, I'll have to call you back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;There's an idiot in the other stall who keeps answering all my questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May God bless, Love ya's&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114381352915609355?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114381352915609355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114381352915609355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114381352915609355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114381352915609355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/03/this-could-happen-to-you.html' title='This could happen to you.....'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114378635841839634</id><published>2006-03-31T01:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T01:25:58.426-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The ABC's of Friendship:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="http://dingo.care-mail.com/cards/flash/5409/abc.swf" href="http://dingo.care-mail.com/cards/flash/5409/abc.swf"&gt;Click here: http://dingo.care-mail.com/cards/flash/5409/abc.swf&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114378635841839634?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114378635841839634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114378635841839634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114378635841839634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114378635841839634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/03/abcs-of-friendship-click-here.html' title=''/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114378620558019152</id><published>2006-03-31T01:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T01:23:25.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/Best%20Friends_puppies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/Best%20Friends_puppies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;My wish for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truly for each of you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, this is about the most beautiful wish that I can recall receiving and I want to share it with you who have help make my life so enjoyable. Please enjoy, bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last momentstogether at the airport. They had announced the departure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said, "I love you and I wish you enough".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more thanenough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They kissed and the daughter left. The mother walked over to thewindow where I was seated. Standing there I could see she wanted and neededto cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral," she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I wish you enough'. May I ask what that means?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone". She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more. "When we said , 'I wish you enough', we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me, she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She then began to cry and walked away .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them but then an entire life to forget them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#ccffff;"&gt;May God bless........Love ya's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114378620558019152?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114378620558019152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114378620558019152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114378620558019152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114378620558019152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/03/my-wish-for-you-truly-for-each-of-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114331855530280175</id><published>2006-03-25T15:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T15:45:17.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cowboy and The Church....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/bear_pencil_hello.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/bear_pencil_hello.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;One Sunday morning an old cowboy entered a church just before services were to begin. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Although the old man and his clothes were spotlessly clean, he wore jeans, a denim shirt and boots that were very worn and ragged. In his hand he carried a worn out old hat and an equally worn out Bible. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;The Church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city. It was the largest and most beautiful church the old cowboy had ever seen and the people were all dressed in expensive clothes and accessories. As the cowboy took a seat, the others moved away from him. No one greeted, spoke to, or welcomed him. They were all appalled at his appearance and did not attempt to hide it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;The preacher gave a long sermon about Hellfire and brimstone and a stern lecture on how to dress and how much money the church needed to do God's work. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;As the old cowboy was leaving the church, the preacher approached him and asked the cowboy to do him a favor. "Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask him what He thinks would be appropriate attire for worship." The old cowboy assured the preacher he would. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;The next Sunday, the cowboy showed up for the services wearing the same spotlessly clean ragged jeans, shirt, boots, and hat. Once again he was completely shunned and ignored. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;The preacher approached the man and said, "I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back to our church." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;"I did" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;"If you spoke to God, what did He tell you the proper attire should be for worshiping in here?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;"Well, sir, God told me that He didn't have a clue what I should wear. He says, He's never been in this church!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;A little Laughter is good for the soul......Have a blessed day!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;Love ya's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114331855530280175?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114331855530280175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114331855530280175' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114331855530280175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114331855530280175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/03/cowboy-and-church.html' title='The Cowboy and The Church....'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24178147.post-114325483721764897</id><published>2006-03-24T21:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T21:47:17.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clinging To The Cross....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/1600/clinging%20to%20the%20cross.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1594/2438/320/clinging%20to%20the%20cross.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/24178147-114325483721764897?l=nonna-land.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/feeds/114325483721764897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=24178147&amp;postID=114325483721764897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114325483721764897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/24178147/posts/default/114325483721764897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nonna-land.blogspot.com/2006/03/clinging-to-cross.html' title='Clinging To The Cross....'/><author><name>Nonna</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12115242863624269448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14340005413230077826'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>