We can think of many book by many authors on many subjects, but what I have to share with you today, is something I think is special and filled with heart. Things are told that are born of pain and blossom into hope and healing in the S.H.E. Anthology. This is a book of many authors each telling their many stories. This is a book involving a subject of grief and healing, hope and survival, children and their hearts filled with fear and pain who go beyond that and grow sharing it with others offering empowerment and hope.
A majority the proceeds from the sale
of this anthology will go to mental health institutions that address
grief factors especially in children- our next generations of hope!
Written by those who know first hand the pain of grief reaching out
to others with their words. My blog is titled More Than Just A Story
In A Book but this collection truly is more than just the stories in
the book. This book is a story from the heart.
SPECIAL NOTE to
the reader:
Each blog about
the S.H.E. Anthology has a unique excerpt to keep things
fresh.
A book without a
reader is like a day without sunshine.
Newton, Connecticut?
Where is that? A massacre? Please, tell me you’re joking! At
school? You have got to be kidding! Dumbfounded! I listened to the
news about Sandy Hook Elementary! Who didn’t feel disheartened by
that story?
Due to my experiences
with many deaths in our small community within a short period of
time, I felt that the kids and folks in that area might feel less
alienated and alone if they were shown the light at the end of their
tunnels. I wanted to help find a way to be empower the children and
their community while revealing to them a HOPE that things can and do
get better. I thought that town might enjoy rhetoric from
kindred spirits. PLUS, I felt others including
health care professionals might enjoy the same types of stories.
After pondering a bit,
God illuminated my next step. Thinking of three books that I had
partial copyrights to, I began compiling a book. Plus, I
immediately had the title of an anthology in my mind- the S.H.E.
Anthology. It’s NOT a romance anthology but it was
written by females. In this book, the girls recollected traumas,
mostly related to death, that they faced while in elementary school.
Their stories reveal their path out of mourning along with many minor
miracles that they encountered. Their tales of hope and inspiration
are true accounts from those children turned authors. This book is
meant to empower Newton as well as others that read it. The authors
hope that this anthology sheds some new light on grief recovery in
the minds of teachers, mental health professionals, and adults
handling major life changes.
The abbreviation ‘S.H.E’
also refers to Sandy Hook Elementary. Isn’t God the best at
setting up coincidences?
In one part of this
anthology, there is some great insight into being the victim of death
and childhood loss. Stacey’s Song is an intimate look
at a ten year old girl’s personal story about the results of her
mother’s cancer death. She, also, deals with the aftermath that
includes her dad going crazy and committing suicide. Obviously,
tragedies, such as the Sandy Hook Massacre, touch home with her.
Stacey talks candidly about overcoming her PTSD. Her honesty in her
writing is only surpassed by the miracles and guidance from God.
In the excerpt that
follows, God taps into the young girl’s anger and pent-up grief. In
the book, near the end of her teen years, an unexpected person brings
closure to Stacey’s mourning. She meets the man that tried to save
her father from his suicide mission, which turns out to be another
blessing from GOD.
…while
at work, I met a man, a police officer. His name is John. As we
discussed orphans and life’s ups and downs, I discovered he raised
and orphan, too. That is not what caught my attention. We actually
shared a different bond.
“How
long have you been a cop?” I chimed into the ongoing conversation
at work.
“About
twelve years!”
“Oh,
then you would not know!” I spoke thoughts.
“Know
what?” He prodded.
“About
my dad!” I added.
“What
happened to your dad?”
“He
committed suicide in 1991.”
“Oh?”
My coworkers and he questioned rhetorically.
“Yeah,
put the car on fire and died!” I finally spoke it aloud.
“Where?”
The policeman showed interest.
“In
this town!” I answered.
“When?”
He pursued. “I used to be a fireman!”
“In
1991?” I questioned.
After
a strange pause, he calmly stated, “I pulled his body from the car
that night, then.”
My
mind wandered around my first playground. The rope swing rested
motionless because my soul decided to ignore its pleas to escape my
current life, this time. My dungeons and their caretakers evaded my
sight as well, which revealed my level of maturity and growth. Then,
somewhere in the distance, fire engine sounds rang out. As a child,
I’d run to grab the candy thrown from this Christmas decorated
truck. That vehicle arrived, once a year; and I loved its sound.
After dad died in the fire, his suicide method, I avoided all
firemen, trucks, toys, and thoughts. Nothing convinced me that there
existed any goodness in anything associated with fire. Today, life
revolved full circle once again because this policeman witnessed it
all. It never jaded him. At that moment, I thought about my
mother’s last smile as Santa approached her window. The present is
definitely the gift.
I
called Cindy immediately with my news. She wasn’t as surprised as
me. Nothing sent from God surprised her anymore not even my chance
to share my feeling about Dad’s death with another participant from
1991. It’s cathartic!
Is Stacey’s
Son a mournful tune or an upbeat journey out of mourning? Read her full story in Stacey’s Song
or in the S.H.E. Anthology.
Also, in that anthology,
The Evans Terrace Girls give their account of what happened
when 7 or more parents died within a year or 2 of each other in a
small subdivision of about 110 homes. People started saying their
land was CURSED. The children heard those rumors about their
subdivision and were scared to death. Some of the children formed a
group that became a club and led their neighborhood out of grief. An
excerpt from their story follows.
This
next excerpt from The Evans Terrace Girls
shows how good intentions encourage most people to noble acts that
spawn random acts of kindness.
As
the first members arrived at my house to be car pooled to the
shopping plaza, my mother pulled out the flyers as well as a poster.
Secretly, she made us a poster with huge black and blue letters stating,
“FREE POOL.” In smaller letters she wrote “safety flyers.” Her
homemade concoction was hilarious but potentially embarrassing. At
first, we expressed reservations about her artwork.
shopping plaza, my mother pulled out the flyers as well as a poster.
Secretly, she made us a poster with huge black and blue letters stating,
“FREE POOL.” In smaller letters she wrote “safety flyers.” Her
homemade concoction was hilarious but potentially embarrassing. At
first, we expressed reservations about her artwork.
“This
will get their attention!” She explained. “Who will pass up a
free pool?” My mother was serious about it being a useful tool to
attract people away from the video store long enough to offer them
the rest of the message or safety pamphlet.
free pool?” My mother was serious about it being a useful tool to
attract people away from the video store long enough to offer them
the rest of the message or safety pamphlet.
“Don’t
laugh,” Joy defended. “She is right! I’d stop for a free
pool!”
The
morning proved to be slow. Mia, Ann, and I sat on the sidewalk
discouraged. Suddenly, Mia began to sing her boredom away. “Drown
do be do drown drown,” She sang to the melody of a real song.
“Come on. Come on. Drown do be do drown drown.” Ann and I
hummed along at first, “Come on. Come on. Drown do be do drown
drown. Waking up will be hard to do....”
discouraged. Suddenly, Mia began to sing her boredom away. “Drown
do be do drown drown,” She sang to the melody of a real song.
“Come on. Come on. Drown do be do drown drown.” Ann and I
hummed along at first, “Come on. Come on. Drown do be do drown
drown. Waking up will be hard to do....”
After
that song, we made up other lyrics to popular melodies, “Um
bop, don’t drop, into your pool, stop...in an um drop their gone...” and
so on. Making up the best new words became a competition as
crowds from church finally started arriving for their brunch.
bop, don’t drop, into your pool, stop...in an um drop their gone...” and
so on. Making up the best new words became a competition as
crowds from church finally started arriving for their brunch.
At
that point, we begged people to take our flyers. Some people
humored us but then left the flyers of their tables as part of the
waitress’s tip. Others avoided eye contact as we presented out
pamphlets. One man got down right mean. After a conversation
begging him to take the paper, he said, “I work for a charity and can
get anything I need. So, I don’t need your flyer. No, thank-you.”
humored us but then left the flyers of their tables as part of the
waitress’s tip. Others avoided eye contact as we presented out
pamphlets. One man got down right mean. After a conversation
begging him to take the paper, he said, “I work for a charity and can
get anything I need. So, I don’t need your flyer. No, thank-you.”
As
he left, my mother muttered, “You may head a charity but you
have no kindness in your heart.” We heard her but he was too busy
wearing his lopsided halo to turn back.
have no kindness in your heart.” We heard her but he was too busy
wearing his lopsided halo to turn back.
Cars
started arriving in the parking lot, which also serviced a grocery
chain. We held our poster high and tempted cars to come to
screeching stops as people read the words free pool. This prank did
attract attention. Some crowds did gather until they read the rest of
the poster. In the end, we handed out fifty flyers on our shift. Then, Joy
and Nicole arrived to relieve us.
chain. We held our poster high and tempted cars to come to
screeching stops as people read the words free pool. This prank did
attract attention. Some crowds did gather until they read the rest of
the poster. In the end, we handed out fifty flyers on our shift. Then, Joy
and Nicole arrived to relieve us.
Joy
tempted fate by standing as close to the video store as legal. She
harassed people until they came closer to hear what her poster was
offering. Nicole asked how we did; she decided her group’s goal was
to meet or match our number. It was about that time that two people
came by to offer us money towards our cause. Since our flyers were
free, we declined the money.
harassed people until they came closer to hear what her poster was
offering. Nicole asked how we did; she decided her group’s goal was
to meet or match our number. It was about that time that two people
came by to offer us money towards our cause. Since our flyers were
free, we declined the money.
As
we stood hassling people, a manager from the grocery walked
right up to mom. We thought this meant that she was being scolded.
Watching for a minute, we noticed my mother was laughing. As he
left, we found out why this man went out of his way to leave his post
and greet our adult leader
.
right up to mom. We thought this meant that she was being scolded.
Watching for a minute, we noticed my mother was laughing. As he
left, we found out why this man went out of his way to leave his post
and greet our adult leader
.
“The
store offered us free cookies. All we have to do is tell them
that manager sent us,” My mother explained.
that manager sent us,” My mother explained.
“Go
get them now,” I yelped.
“We
are hungry,” Joy added.
What
other minor miracles happened (free cookies) when these girls join
forces with others to make good things happen in this world? Read
The Evans Terrace Girls
or their section in the
S.H.E. Anthology.
The
eBook copy of the S.H.E Anthology is available
as
a KINDLE @
in
other eBook formats @ SMASHWORDS.com @
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/278511
The
paperback version comes in BLACK & WHITE on AMAZON @
Plus,
the S.H.E Anthology
is in color paperback format @
So,
come on buy to be inspired and help grieving children. It’s a
WIN-WIN.
By
the Way, a copy of this anthology went to Newton’s public library
as well.
Other
contact information follows.
E-MAIL @ mchanson714@yahoo.com
TWITTER @
www.twitter.com/mchanson714
My
generic Blog is @ http://mchanson714.blogspot.com
My
SMASHWORDS generic link to all my eBooks is (they distribute to Sony,
IBooks, etc.)
This is the
AMAZON generic link to all my Kindles and paperbacks
My generic
YouTube link to find my book trailers is
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=mchanson714&oq=mchanson714&gs_l=youtube.3...515.2012.0.2231.11.11.0.0.0.0.125.842.9j2.11.0...0.0...1ac.1.8x1pyvuQsOY
