Ten Little Puaka's

MENTOR Text
Ten Little Rabbits by Virginia Grossman & Silvia Long

One lonely traveler riding on the plain.
Two graceful dancers asking for some rain.
Three busy messengers sending out the news
Four clever trackers looking for some clues
Five wise storytellers trying to keep warm.
Six nimble runners fleeing from a storm.
Seven merry mischief makers playing hide-and-seek.
Eight patients anglers fishing in a creek.
Nine festive drummers beating on a drum.
Ten sleepy weavers knowing day is done.


My Tongan Version
Ten Little Puakas (Pigs)
One pink puaka strutting round the lagoon
Two graceful dancers swaying with the moon
Three brown climbers sipping milk in the sun
Four festive drummers beating on a drum
Five busy gardeners tending the garden patch .  match snatch scratch
Six tired fishermen eating the day's catch
Seven purple starfish glistening in sun's rays 

Eight nimble hands threading floral leis
                                    blaze, rays, days, daze

Nine tippy canoes heading past the wave.
Ten tattooed warriors looking very brave.

spearmen
sika

Kempner Road

Mentor Text - Penny Lane - The Beatles

On Kempner Road, there is man with a station wagon
When he honks, those children home run out to him
He fills his wagon to the brim
7/11 with a grin

The corner house is Larsen Ford with a swimming pool
Once a year the neighbors get invited to their yard
Watching helicopter Santa can be hard
Like a game of cards.          (Or not a winning card?)

Kempner Road is in my heart and in mind
Nestled below the mountain skyline
I dream, and meanwhile back...

On Kempner Road, there is gully, a stream below
The twins attempted sledding down the sloping hill
They thought it would be such a thrill
A broken leg spill.

At dusk we could be found playing street night games
Nimbly hopping fences, carrying flashlights up our sleeves
Slinking 'round like a band of thieves
Do not dare to sneeze.

Kempner Road is in my heart and in mind
Nestled below the mountain skyline
I dream, and meanwhile back...

On Kempner Road there was a field at the dead end side
The field had an apple tree and wild honey bees
Two rambunctious boys, matches, oh geeze
Call 911, please.

On Kempner Road our church is just round the corner
Riding a new stingray with a banana seat



Gogo dog

still working on this......

St. Jude's Booth

St. Jude's Booth

Did you hear?
Yesterday, there was free bottled water and protein bars at the St. Jude's booth,
And you can see Him pass them out.
They wanted to make Him King, but he fled to Costco to get away.
At Capernaum's Costco, they wanted free hydro flasks and sushi, and they said:
Rabbi, when did you get here?
He only answered: Ye seek me, not because you saw miracles, but because ye ate the protein bars, and were filled.

Patiently, He tried to explain again:
There is something more immensely of greater value here, He said, and I am
that bread of life.
They said: Is that like a philosopher's stone?
No. Remember your ancestors ate manna in the wilderness?
Well, I can give you living bread, you know, my flesh.
Say what? We don't get it.
Is it like a skin graft? What do we need it for?
His meaning was totally lost on these people, so literal.
Many recoiled by His speech and thought, how can this man give us his flesh to eat, we just want free bagels and sushi.
Listen, listen, He said, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man,
and drink his blood, ye have no life in you.
You will dwell in me, He continued, and I will dwell in you. Do you see now?
Many still did not grasp, and they said: You know, this is a hard thing you are talking about.
And many left.

Let us not be them. Let us understand His meaning.
That Bread of Life, and Living Water, it poignantly reminds us of
the price He paid to redeem us.
Broken bread, torn flesh.
Wash our garments in the Savior's blood.
Internalize the qualities and character of Christ.
Let us also remember to tell those who stop at the St. Jude's booth.

Ideas came from reading: The Living Bread Which Came Down from Heaven
Elder D. Todd Christofferson and the New Testament