Pat McNees and Debbie Brodsky talk about what personal histories are, and what personal historians do, and why Tell your story now. But you can either run from it, or learn from it.
With flowing tears, dear cherished one, We lay thee with the dead; And flowers, which thou didst love so well Shall wave above thy head.
Sweet emblems of thy dearer self, They find a wintry tomb; And at the south wind's gentle touch, Spring forth to life and bloom. Thus, when the sun of righteousness Shall gild thy dark abode, Thy slumb'ring dust shall bloom afresh, And soar to meet thy God.
Why do I smile? Why do I weep? I do not know; it lies too deep.
I hear the winds of autumn sigh, They break my heart, they make me cry; I hear the birds of lovely spring, My hopes revive, I help them sing. Why do I sing? Why do I cry? It lies so deep, I know not why. By Morris Rosenfeld Death comes once, let it be easy. Ring one bell for me once, let it go at that.
Or ring no bell at all, better yet. Sing one song if I die. Or sing nothing at all, better yet. Death comes once, let it be easy. You will sleep, and when from dreams you start, As of one that wakes in Paradise, There will be a singing in your heart, There will be a rapture in your eyes.
There will be a moaning in your heart There will be an anguish in your eyes; You will see your dearest ones depart, You will hear their quivering good-byes.
Yours will be the heart-ache and the smart, Tears that scald and lonely sacrifice; There will be a moaning in your heart, There will be an anguish in your eyes. There will come a glory in your eyes, There will come a peace within your heart; Sitting 'neath the quiet evening skies, Time will dry the tear and dull the smart.
You will know that you have played your part; Yours shall be the love that never dies: You, with Heaven's peace within your heart, You, with God's own glory in your eyes.
If I should go before the rest of you Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone Nor when I'm gone speak in a Sunday voice But be the usual selves that I have known Weep if you must.If you are a teacher searching for educational material, please visit PBS LearningMedia for a wide range of free digital resources spanning preschool through 12th grade.
Funeral Poems for Mothers. The following is a selection of poems for mothers, suitable for reading at the funeral or memorial service. A poem can be added .
L'Heure Bleue or 'the bluish hour' was created by Jacques Guerlain in The fragrance is velvety soft and romantic, it is a fragrance of bluish dusk and anticipation of .
Tammy Writes: Hi Karen, I can't begin to thank you for my visit to you last week.
Funeral Poems for Mothers. The following is a selection of poems for mothers, suitable for reading at the funeral or memorial service. For most of us, expressing our feelings towards our mother is very emotional and difficult. If you are a teacher searching for educational material, please visit PBS LearningMedia for a wide range of free digital resources spanning preschool through 12th grade. Literature: The Human Experience is based on a simple premise: All students can and will connect with literature if the works they read are engaging, exciting, and relevant. Accordingly, every edition of this classroom favorite has featured a broad range of enticing stories, poems, plays, and essays that explore timeless, ever-resonant themes: innocence and experience, conformity and rebellion Price: $
It was amazing. I feel like I have come a long way under your guidance. Love is the expansion of two natures in such fashion that each includes the other, each is enriched by the other. Love is an echo in the feelings of a unity subsisting between two persons which is founded both on likeness and on complementary differences.
~ Felix Adler. The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dubliners, by James Joyce This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever.