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The information arm of Bo Gritz' Center for Action is the national Newsletter. For more than ten years it was published monthly, but more recently, with the aid of good friend Richard Flowers, it has come out bi-monthly. Below you will find excerpts from past issues, to give you the reader some flavor of it's content.

Vignettes from
Past Issues

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FARMER’S GIFT

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while working the fields, he heard a desperate cry for help coming from a nearby bog. Dropping his tools, he ran to investigate the emergency. There, mired to his waist, and sinking in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling in vain to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what would otherwise have been a slow and dreadful death and sent him on his way.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman’s sparse holdings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the distressed youth. "I want to repay you. You, sir, saved my son’s life," but Fleming waved off the offer. "No, I can’t accept payment for helping the boy, it was the Christian thing to do."

At that moment, the farmer’s own son came to the door of the hovel. "Is that your son?" the nobleman asked. "Yes, sir, I’m proud to say he is." "Please, Farmer Fleming, permit me the honor of offering your son a proper education. If the boy is anything like his father, he will become a man we will all be proud to know." Fleming agreed and allowed his son, Alex, to accompany Lord Randolph.

In time Alex graduated from London’s St Mary’s Hospital School of Medicine and went on to be world renowned as Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin, one of the top 20 stories of the 20th Century! Years later, the nobleman’s son was again saved by a Fleming; cured of deadly pneumonia by Penicillin. The name of the nobleman was Randolph Churchill. His stricken son became Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchill! Doing the right thing comes around again and again.

PET’S GIFT

It is a fact now often repeated that pets extend our life. There are numerous examples where they have willingly risked and given their life for ours. Several months ago, I wrote a Newsletter article addressing pets in heaven. It is one of the most controversial theological arguments, to all except those who have been graced with one of God‘s critters as a pet. As a boy, besides my Grandma, my best friend was a cur-dog named Smokey. We went everywhere together. During the school year, Smokey would stay by my bike until 3:30 when the bell rang and off we went for home. Life was perfect; there was nothing I wanted more than my Mom and my dog.

I recall the day Smokey died as if it was only a heartbeat ago. Smokey and I had walked over to visit my other grandma. We were on the way home when Avis Sanders, a family friend, stopped in her car. She insisted on driving me the rest of the way. I resisted as much as a I dared, considering the respect my Mom had instilled in me for adults. My heart shrank at the thought of Smokey running behind the car trying to keep up; Avis could have cared less: "He’ll be alright!" I begged her to let me out, we would be fine walking; no way. Smokey was stretched out trying to match the car’s 35mph, not watching at intersections for other traffic.

You know what happened. It crushed me, I cried and cried, holding tight to all that was left of my departed friend. My only solace came from a kind elderly gentleman who assured me that Smokey would wait for me in heaven. I look forward to this day to seeing Smokey, waiting patiently for us to finally go home. And I know where he will be: "I’d rather stay here outside the Pearly Gate. I won’t be a nuisance. I won’t even bark. I’ll be very patient and wait. I’ll be here, without a whimper or moan. No matter how long you may be. I’d miss you so much, if I went in alone, it wouldn’t be Heaven for me."

Just this side of heaven there is a place called Rainbow Bridge. Precious pets received by God, await us to cross-over the ridge. With plenty of play between like friends, they race through grassy fields. Under angels care each one is restored by perfect paradise meals. They would be perfectly happy, except for only one need - you. But, don’t despair, the day comes when one suddenly stops and stares into the hue. Bright eyes intent, the celestial body quivers. Yes it is! Now racing away from the givers, flying over the ground, legs moving faster and faster, You have been spotted! Dancing joyously, your dear friend rains kisses upon you, as your heart swells to the warm embrace. Your hands caress the beloved head as you gaze into the trusting, loyal eyes of your pet-friend‘s face. What better way to be greeted? God’s love is sublime as you cross Rainbow Bridge forever together.

Oh, when we get to Heaven

We hope that we will find

The souls who we once loved,

Who left us all behind.

Some left us at the right time,

When we said a Goodbye.

Others left too sudden

Gone before we could cry.

There’s a special spot for all;

For animals and even kids.

I can hardly wait to see

A place called Rainbow Bridge.

Across the green meadow,

Atop the hills I’ll run.

Where all the light colors

Dance and glisten in the sun

And there is my beloved,

Coming fast toward me.

In my arms, now secure

FOR ALL ETERNITY!

A truly great video-movie for family viewing is Dancing With The White Dog (Hallmark). I promise you a sweet moving experience.

SENSE OF A GOOSE: There have been several "perfect moments" in my life. One was in Virginia, in the Fall, laying on my back, looking into a clear blue sky with the afternoon sun warming me, watching V’s of geese winging their way southward for the Winter. I was one with nature. My questions on how they navigate and why they flew in such a formation were answered. I’ve learned if we had the sense of a goose, we could be far better off, especially with the onset of a cold Y-2-K Winter.

By flying in a "V" formation, the whole flock has at least 70% greater flying range than if each bird flew its own course. As each bird flaps its wings it creates an uplift for the bird immediately following. People who share a common direction and sence of community can get where they are going more quickly and easily because they are traveling on the thrust of one another, ergo Almost Heaven.

When a goose flies out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to go it alone. It quickly gets back into its proper place to take advantage of the uplifting power of the bird in front. If we had as much common sense as a goose, we would stay in place with those headed where we want to go. We should be willing to accept their help and give our help to others. It is harder to do something alone than together.

When the lead goose gets tired, it rotates back into the formation, and another goose flies to the point position. It is sensible to take turns doing the hard and demanding tasks and sharing leadership. As with geese, people are interdependent of each other’s skills, talents, and resources.

Geese flying in formation honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed. We need to make sure our honking is encouraging. In groups where there is encouragement, the production is much greater. The power of encouragement (to stand by one’s true heart) is the quality of honking we seek. We need to make sure our honking is encouraging.

When a goose gets sick, wounded, or shot down, two other geese follow it down to lend help and protection. They stay with the fallen goose until it dies or is able to fly again. They then launch out on their own, or with another formation, to catch up with their own flock. If we have the sense of a goose, we will stand by our own kind in difficult times as well as good. To this end, I formed our Constitutional Covenant Community at Almost Heaven (Kamiah), Idaho.

SHMILY

I went back for our Missing In Action; exposed government corruption; offered you a Constitutional choice for president; traveled the USA seeking to make you as self-reliant as any Green Beret; developed a Covenant Community for you; spend considerable time on radio and this Newsletter to keep you aware; freely, without compensation, I have placed myself between Americans and peril. Through the CFA, I continue to try and prepare our brothers and sisters for what is coming. If I could, I would I grant your every righteous desire. Please accept the example for greater happiness contained in this story as part of your own life.

"My Grandparents, Mary and Tillman were married for over 50-years and played a private game of tag from the time I can remember. The idea was to write the letters "SHMILY" at surprise places for the other to find. They dragged SHMILY with their fingers through the sugar and flour containers to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They traced it in the condensation on the windows and in the steam on the mirror in the bathroom. Grandma even reeled off a whole roll of toilet paper to write their secret word on the last sheet. There was no end to the places SHMILY would show up: on the car horn, inside shoes, under pillows, in the dust on the TV screen, under the toilet-seat, behind the closet door, stuck to their little dog, Piper, between pages in the Bible, in Daddy’s tool shed, on a Christmas tree ornament, etc. I never knew what the word meant and no one else did either, but one fact was certain. Grandma and Granddad had love down pat. Their marriage was based on personal devotion and passionate affection for each other.

They held hands when together and constantly stole kisses. They finished each other’s sentences and shared everything from desert to the crossword puzzle. Grandma would point to the brown-toned photo on the mantle of Tillman in his World War I, "Dough Boy," uniform and whisper to me, so he could barely hear, how tall and good-looking he was, and how handsome he had become with the years. She frequently congratulated herself saying: "I sure can pick ’em!" Before every meal we joined hands, bowed our head and thanked God for their good fortune, a loving family, and each other. Things were tough after World War II, but their time together was so good; it was as if they knew something bad was coming and they had to live every moment as if it were the last.

Granddad came down with diabetes and in those days there wasn’t much for country folks to do but endure. Grandma was with him every step, helping with special diets and all. They drove to the city for treatments and sought remedies from all over, but he gradually grew worse. When too ill to go outside, she comforted him in a room painted in his favorite color, yellow, to look like sunshine - the little SHMILY notes seemed to increase. My Grandfather had played a big Sousaphone in the Salvation Army Band since he and Grandma had first met; she had beat the drum. With the help of a cane and Grandma’s help, they would go to church, it seemed to do them both good. Before long she went alone, and then not at all, praying for God to watch over her precious partner. Then, of course, the day came when what we all dreaded happened, and Grandfather was gone. We all worried about Mary and how she would exist without his love of so long.

Struggling through tears and tight throat to maintain dignity to my uniform, and respect for my surrogate Dad, in giving a proper eulogy, I noticed "SHMILY," scrawled in Mama’s hand at the bottom of a yellow ribbon on the funeral bouquet. As the last of Granddad’s many friends, Legionnaires, fellow musicians, and neighborhood mourners left, our small family came forward and gathered around the casket for a final goodbye. In all the years and countless times friends had gathered in song, I’d never heard Mama sing, she just sat and kept rhythm with the drum on her lap. Now, stricken and shaking in grief, she would not be denied. Laying her hands upon the smooth cool surface, she began a soft, throaty melody, revealing at last their secret…"See How Much I Love You." My hope for you this Christmas is as much love in your life, as the game of SHMILY has given others.

TODAY MARRIAGE TAKES THREE: Marriage used to take just two to make a go. But now I’m convinced it takes the Lord also. And not one marriage fails where Christ is asked to enter. As lovers come together with Jesus at the center. But marriage seldom thrives and homes are incomplete. Till He is welcomed there; to help avoid defeat. In homes where God is first, it’s obvious to see. Those unions really work; for marriage today takes three.

IT’S ALL IN THE PUNCTUATION: An English Professor wrote the words "woman without her man is nothing" on the blackboard and asked the students to punctuate it correctly. The male students wrote: "Woman, without her man, is nothing." The females wrote: "Woman! Without her, man is nothing."

SOME MOMS REMAIN UNCHANGED: After a forest fire in Yellowstone, forest rangers began a trek up the mountain to assess the damage. One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree. The ranger knocked the bird over with a stick and was astonished to see three tiny chicks scurry from under their dead mother’s wings. The mother, aware of impending disaster, led her chicks to the base of the tree and gathered them under her wings. She could have flown to safety, but refused to abandon her babies. The mother-bird remained steadfast as the blaze arrived. The toxic smoke rose and the flames scorched her small body, but in death, she saved her young.

FOREST GUMP GOES TO HEAVEN: Many of us list Forest Gump, as played by Tom Hanks, in the top-10 movies ever made. While Hanks is certainly by current standards "normal," his portrayal of Gump shows us that there are times when it may be best to be otherwise, as in this test to get into Heaven. Forest is met by St. Peter at the Pearly Gates: "Well Forest, it certainly is good to see you. We have heard so many great things about you. Unfortunately, we are filling up fast and require and entrance exam before allowing anyone else in." Forest acknowledges the compliments and expresses concern about the exam: "I hope it’s not too tough, life was a big enough test as it was." St Pete assures Forest the test is short, "It’s only three Questions: What days of the week begin with the letter "T"? - How many seconds are there in a year? - And, What is God’s first name?" "Well," says Forest, "the first one is easy. That’d be Today and Tomorrow." Saint Peter’s eyes opened wide, as confused he said, "Forest, that isn’t what I expected, but you do have a point. Okay, go on." "Well, as for the second question, that’s not so hard: everybody ought to know there are 12-seconds in a year." "TWELVE! TWELVE!" Peter shouted, "Forest for Heaven’s sake how can there be only 12-seconds in a whole year?" "Well, now there’s January 2, February 2, March 2…" "ALRIGHT! Hold it. I see where you’re going and while it’s not the school solution, I‘ll give you credit for that one too. What about the last Question? Can you tell me God’s First Name?" Forest paused for a moment’s contemplation, then replies: "Andy." Peter is beside himself, torn between confusion and astonishment! Before he can inquire, Forest provides the answer: "You remember, St Peter, we sang it in church every Sunday: "Andy walks with me, Andy talks with me, Andy tells me, I am His own." Peter, with eyes and heart brimming over with compassion for Forest’s different way of seeing, opens Heaven’s Gate and welcomes him Home.

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