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"Little Angels" composed by Tom Williams III
Copyright © 1997 Dreamsharer Music, Ltd.

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Many Winters (Author Unknown)

When the hand of winter gives up its grip to the sun
And the river's hard ice becomes the tongue to spring
I must go into the earth itself
To know the source from which I came.
Where there is a history of leaves
I lie face down upon the land.
I smell the rich wet earth
Trembling to allow the birth
Of what is innocent and green.
My fingers touch the yielding earth
Knowing that it contains
All previous births and deaths.
I listen to a cry of whispers
Concerning the awakening earth
In possession of itself.
With a branch between my teeth
I feel the growth of trees.
Flowing with life born of ancient death.
I cover myself with earth
So that I may know while still alive
How sweet is the season of my time.

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Mature (Author Unknown)

Today at the drugstore, the clerk was a gent. From my purchase this chap took off ten percent. I asked for the cause of a lesser amount; And he answered, "Because of the Seniors Discount."

I went to McDonald's for a burger and fries; And there, once again, got quite a surprise. The clerk poured some coffee which he handed to me. He said, "For you, Seniors, the coffee is free."

Understand---I'm not old---I'm merely mature; But some things are changing, temporarily, I'm sure. The newspaper print gets smaller each day, And people speak softer---can't hear what they say.

My teeth are my own (I have the receipt.) and my glasses identify people I meet. Oh, I've slowed down a bit...not a lot, I am sure. You see, I'm not old...I'm only mature.

The gold in my hair has been bleached by the sun. You should see all the damage that chlorine has done. Washing my hair has turned it all white, But don't call it gray...saying "blonde" is just right.

My car is all paid for...not a nickel is owed. Yet a kid yells, "Old duffer...get off of the road!" My car has no scratches...not even a dent. Still I get all that guff from a punk who's "Hell bent."

My friends all get older...much faster than me. They seem much more wrinkled, from what I can see. I've got "character lines," not wrinkles...for sure, But don't call me old...just call me mature.

The steps in the houses they're building today are so high that they take...your breath all away; And the streets are much steeper than ten years ago. That should explain why my walking is slow.

But I'm keeping up on what's hip and what's new, And I think I can still dance a mean boogaloo. I'm still in the running...in this I'm secure, I'm not really old...I'm only mature.

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Mirror (Sandi Wilson, ©1999)

I look in the mirror,
can't believe what I see.
There's an older woman
staring back at me.

In my mind I see me
as I was in the past,
young and carefree,
sure it would last.

Those lines are not dimples,
it's age creeping in.
I never did see it,
when did it begin?

When people now look
is this what they see?
I feel like screaming...
It's not really ME.

Why don't I feel older?
The numbers don't lie.
I hope when you know me
you see my mind's eye,

See past the wrinkles,
see what's in my heart.
The face may be older
But I feel it's a start

To a new understanding
I have of my life.
Meet ME as I am...
woman, mother and wife.

I'm all those things
rolled up into one.
My face just reflects
all that I've done

The lines show I've lived,
I've laughed, and I've cried
They're badges of living
that I can abide.

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No Room For Crybabies (Observer - by Russell Baker)

The baby-boom generation is now looking down the gun barrel of 50 and worried about what to expect. At its request, I have gone ahead to scout the territory. This is what's up there:

The 50th birthday: You wake feeling wonderful. This is because you are still alive. Not only still alive, you also feel exactly the way you felt yesterday. What joy! Now that you've crossed the great divide, you could very well live forever.

51st: You consider hair transplants or, if female, liposuction.

52rd: You decide it might be a good idea to have a blood-pressure-measuring machine in the house at all times.

53rd: The doctor says it's only natural for knees to creak at your age, the swine.

54th: A friend with a macabre sense of humor gives you a crate of vitamin pills. You laugh like a good sport while privately deciding to tuck them in a good hiding place and try some when nobody is looking.

55th: After rising and while facing the mirror, you think: "Oh, to be 50 again!"

56th: Have you ever felt better? You sure have.

57th: There will be a big birthday dinner tonight with sexy guests of both genders, or gendery guests of both sexes if you prefer, but suppose that embarrassing stomach rumbling starts up again during dessert. You load the CD player with "Night on Bald Mountain," just in case.

58th: "Oh, to be 55 again!"

59th: Remember how tired and worn-out your parents looked at this age? By comparison, you don't look a day over 35. Maybe 49.

60th: Lovely, lovely! The big six-oh, and you don't feel a bit worse than you did when you were still in your 50's yesterday.

61st: It is amazing how unfaded you look by candlelight. And the old drain -- brain, that is -- has it ever been sharper, more alert, quicker to grasp Frankenstein's theory of relativity or coin a side-splitting catechism -- solecism? -- prism? -- fanaticism? -- Manicheanism? -- what's the word I'm looking for?

62rd: Witticism.

63rd: You've had better birthdays. A lovely young woman calls you "Pops." If you are female, a charming young man -- great pecks and abs! -- puts an arm out to save you from stumbling into a pile of lawn fertilizer and says, "Watch your step, mother."

64th: Retire? You'll never retire. Why, you haven't even reached the peak of your intellectual powers yet, for Heaven's sake! No way are you ever going to go to Florida and spend the rest of your life eating the early-bird special every night.

65th: You realize that there are worse things than being 65, but you prefer not to think of them.

66th: Waking, you feel astonished, and say to your wife, "When I was 21 I never expected to be a 66-year-old man." Or, if female, "I've been 21 and now I'm 66, and when I remember that at 21 I made the obligatory youth journey to Woodstock, there's a lot to be said for being 66."

67th: Why keep trying to kid yourself when it costs money? You decide to start saying "Yes" when people ask if you're eligible for the geezer discount.

68th: So you're 68. All sorts of people have been 68. Methuselah. If anyone telephones, say you're out.

69th: You're tired of being a liberal. What's more, you don't even feel liberal anymore. You must have been crazy to think that was a good time you had in that mess at Woodstock. You decide to become a right-wing nut. Alternatively, if tired of lifelong conservatism, you become a left-wing extremist. Anything to show you're still rambunctious.

70th: You hope the children don't drop by today. They always ask if your arteries, kidneys, liver and lights are failing, and whether it isn't time to surrender your car keys.

71st: You decide not to get down on your knees all day long so you can feel wonderful about not having to ask somebody to help you get up.

72nd: What's this! The children's hair gray? It makes you feel old for the first time.

73rd: How wonderful being old enough to see your teen-age grandchildren abuse your children the way your children used to abuse you.

Look for more to come....

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Ode To The Woman In The Mirror (Morning Dove)

I looked in the mirror the other day and saw a woman I hardly recognized. She looked so much older than what I remembered. I smiled at her just to see if she would smile back, and she did! I told her I remember helping her put on makeup, and wondered why she had quit wearing it like she used to. She told me it wasn't as important as it was when she was younger. She also said the makeup has a tendency to settle in the lines on her face And she doesn't like the way it looks.

I brushed her hair, washed her face and turned to go to the kitchen. Hardly out of the bathroom, I wondered if she had really looked that old, And turned back to take another look. I tiptoed up to the mirror and just barely peaked in...... sure enough, there she was peeking back at me. I stepped into full view and so did she. I smiled again, and she smiled back. I told her I couldn't believe she was looking so old. And I saw the glint of a tear in her eyes and was instantly sorry to have said it. She glanced down and said it was "OK".... and that she well knew how much older she was looking.

I asked if there was anything I could do to help her, and she really started to cry. I cried too.... I just couldn't help it because she looked so sad. I wrapped my arms around her, rocking back and forth, and I started to sing to her. "Well, if I had a nickel I tell you what I'd do.. I'd spend it all for candy, and give it all to you!! I'd spend it all for candy, and give it all to you.. 'cause that's how much I love you, Baby, that's how much I love you! And, if you were a horsefly, and I an old gray mare.. I'd stand and let you bite me, and never move a hair!! I'd stand and let you bite me, and never move a hair.. 'cause that's how much I love you, Baby, That's how much I love you!"

When I glanced at her again, I could see a little smile on her face. I continued to hug her, rock and sing to her, and after a while she felt much more relaxed in my arms. I let go, faced her squarely in the mirror, and smiled a great big smile. I could tell by the way she smiled back that she was feeling better. I told her she was still a beautiful woman, and I would always be there to tell her so. I said, "Any time you are feeling blue, just let me know and I will fix it..... I will tell you, Girl, you are gorgeous!"

I told her we weren't going to worry anymore about a few little old wrinkles, besides, we had earned each and every one of them....... and "By the way, those are not age spots we have, they are beauty marks." We stood there laughing like crazy as I wiped the tears from her face. As I started back to the kitchen, I glanced at her again and I could see that she was OK! You know, I believe I'm going to stick around and check on her often..... because I think she really needs me.

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Old Age (Author Unknown)

"You're as old as you feel;" or so they say. Here's how General Douglas MacArthur described old age:

"Nobody grows old by merely living a number of years. People grow old only by deserting their ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin but to give up interest wrinkles the soul. Worry, doubt, self-distrust, fear, and despair... these are the long, long years that bow the head and turn the growing spirit back to dust. You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hope, as old as your despair."

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Older Is Better (Author Unknown)

Let us take note, that it is the old apple trees that are decked
with the loveliest blossoms,
That is the ancient redwoods,
that rise to majestic height,
That it is old violins that produce
the richest tones,
That it is the old wine that tastes the sweetest,
That is it for ancient coins, old stamps, and antique
furniture that many eagerly seek:
That it is when the year is old and has run its course
that Mother Nature transforms the world into a
fairyland of snow,
That old friends are the dearest and that it is the old
people who have been loved by God for a long, long time,
Thank God for the blessings of old age, its faith, it's love,
its hope its patience, its wisdom, its maturity
When all is said and done OLD is wonderful!
Enjoy life!

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On Being A Daughter (Bette-Jane Raphael)

One of the precious payoffs to being a daughter is that as we get older our mothers seem to get better and better. The lessons they sometimes had to drive home to us with brickbats suddenly make perfect sense. The advice that once seemed colossally and hopelessly outdated becomes recognizable as the wisdom we refused to see. And the person who might once have been looked upon as life's chief roadblock -- the adversary we were put on this earth to overcome -- stands revealed as none other than the friend and ally that, in truth, she always was."

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Poem by Teresa A. Adams

Sometimes when the road gets rough,
Just close your eyes and dream,
Of where this journey is taking you
And the results it will bring.

For dreams are not just for dreamers
They are hope for everyone
Of a better life, and better times,
And sweet memories to come.

And if sometimes you feel as though
Your struggle is in vain,
Remember, please you're worth it all
And have so much to gain.

Then trudge on through with dignity
And be proud of who you are
And love yourself for traveling
The road where dreams seem far.

And when your journey is over,
And the battle is all done
Your dreams will become reality
And you can say "I WON"!

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Possibilities Abound as Barbie Turns 40 (Author Unknown)

Yes, it's hard to believe, but in 1999 Barbie will turn 40, just in time to greet the new century. And they've been 40 full, rich years. She began as a glamorous airline stewardess when she was introduced at Toy Fair in 1959. She soared into space as an astronaut in 1974, ran for president in 1992, and, in 1997, she bore disability bravely, folding her first ever bending legs into a wheelchair to become a role model once again for a newly identified market.

In every incarnation, nationality, and skin tone, she's perfectly turned out, with accessories galore at her long slender fingertips. She's Every woman, she's the Cosmos Girl, she has it all. So, what will Mattel think of next as the company meets the challenge of Barbie turning 40?

Why fight age? Why not capitalize on it in every way possible? Here are some ideas Mattel might consider for a past 40 Barbie:

Bifocals Barbie: Comes with her own set of blended-lens fashion frames in six wild colors (half-frames too!), neck chain and large-print editions of Vogue and Martha Stewart Living.

Hot Flash Barbie: Press Barbie's bellybutton and watch her face turn beet red while tiny drops of perspiration appear on her forehead! With hand-held fan and tiny tissues.

Facial Hair Barbie: As Barbie's hormone levels shift, see her whiskers grow! Available with teensy tweezers and magnifying mirror.

Cook's Arms Barbie: Hide Barbie's droopy triceps with these new, roomier-sleeved gowns. Good news on the tummy front, too: muumuus are back! Cellulite cream and loofah sponge optional.

Bunion Barbie: Years of disco dancing in stiletto heels have definitely taken their toll on Barbie's dainty arched feet. Soothe her sores with this pumice stone and plasters, then slip on soft terry mules. Colors: pink, rose, blush.

No More Wrinkles Barbie: Erase those pesky crow's-feet and lip lines with a tube of Skin Sparkle-Spackle, from Barbie's own line of exclusive age-blasting cosmetics.

Soccer Mom Barbie: All that experience as a cheerleader is really paying off as Barbie dusts off her old high school megaphone to root for Babs and Ken Jr. With mini van in robin's egg blue or white, and cooler filled with doughnut holes and fruit punch.

Mid-life Crisis Barbie: It's time to ditch Ken. Barbie needs a change, and Bruce (her personal trainer) is just what the doctor ordered, along with Prosaic. They're hopping in her new red Meat and heading for the Napa Valley to open a B&B. Comes with real tape of "Breaking Up Is Hard to Do."

Single Mother Barbie: There's not much time for primping anymore! Ken's shacked up with the Swedish au pair in the Dream House and Barbie's across town with Babs and Ken Jr. in a fourth-floor walk-up. Barbie's selling off her old gowns and accessories to raise rent money. Complete garage sale kit included.

Recovery Barbie: Too many parties have finally caught up with the ultimate party girl. Now she does 12 steps instead of dance steps! Clean and sober, she's going to meetings religiously. Comes with little copy of The Big Book and six-pack of Diet Coke.

Who knows when Barbie will have outlived her usefulness? From Dream House to Nursing Home (both new and improved -- wheelchair-accessible and retrofitted to conform to ADA code requirements), the possibilities (not to mention the accessories) are endless.

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