Bandaid for the heart

In the town of Stapleton Nebraska is a lady by the name of Monica Harvey, affectionately known by many as "Lil Sis" She is an unassuming lady with a beautiful soul. In 2001 she assumed a ministry that has evolved into the Veterans Music Ministry. She travels from place to place visiting Veterans Homes,Hospitals,and get togethers such as moving walls, and the such. She sings and brings hope to a forgotten generation of warriors. When the World War II vets were welcomed home as the heroes they were, Korea a littel less so, and then a war broke out in some little god forsken corner of the world that very few could locate on the map. We shipped load after load of Sailors, Marines, Sldiers and Airmen, as well as Coasties to that remote place in Southeast Asia. During that timesome 58,000 did not return home, and those who did found a whole different war going on in this country. Those coming home learned to ditch their uniforms, hide their medals, and disguise their outside wounds and just try to blend in. However the wounds that were born on the inside never healed. the ound of the soul and the heart given by a country that they came from, given by their neighbors, school mates, and old friends. These wounds hurt far more than any bullet ever could. They were spat upon, called names and made to feel shame for what they did. As I said these wounds sat and sat day after day, month after month year after year. Many of these men vowed never tolet this happen again, to make every returning warrior feel welcomed when they returned, yet it did not really do anything for the internal anguish that they felt. Then along comes Lil Sis in her little corner of the world, singing to them, hugging them, caring for them, and welcoming them home. In addition she came up with a little trinket she called the healing heart medal. A little pin to be be attached to the hats, vests, and shirts of these mighty men. much beyond her control the name transitioned to the Band-aid for the heart, as that was what it is to these warriors who answered their countries call, adn gave unselfishly of themselves. It was a symbol of a gap being bridged and the wounds of the psyche being pulled together. It is a symbol of caring, and sharing of the pain that they feel. Many wear it proudly, probably more proudly that any medal they received. they wear it with honor and dignity. To them it is the trinket that shows someone really does care, and remembers the sacrifice they made.
From that Ministry sprang hope, love, and trust of a quiet unassuming lady who just wanted to express her gratitude. From her example has sprung the Healing the Heart Ministry ~ Vietnam & Veterans of all Wars and Ann Marie Hatchell, and has inspired me to transform my own Gale Farm Ministry to the Gale Farm Veterans Ministry, reaching out to all our Veterans, because as I personally know, the wounds on the outside will heal and fade, but the wounds on the inside never really do. So welcome home to all my brothers and sisters in uniform welcome home.

Lost Our Way

I try not to get to political in my posts but have recently been reflecting on the situation this country finds itself in of late.America was founded on the concept of hard work and self accomplishment. The early settlers worked hard in carving a niche out for themsleves in the wilderness that was the early colonies. They saw a way and severed ties with England as a result of the Revolution, and took a fledgling nation to a superpower. In World War I and World War II they sacrificed and did without in order to accomplish the goal of winning the war.

We seem to have lost our way. We have become a nation of whiners complaining about all aspects of our lives. We have our hands out collectively as a nation expecting the government to provide everything for us from food to health care.Welfare is abused, but if you try straightening it out the masses complain the fix is unconstitional, even though many who complain have never read the Constitution. We expect the government to ffix and make our retirement comfortable. We expect our elected official to bring more money "home" than we sent in. We seem to have lost our way in that we elect "professional" Politicians. The way our Government was set up by our founding fathers was that the Senate was the elite, the House was the commonor working person, the businessman who went to Washington for one or two terms, then went back home to their farms or their businesses and let someone else take a turn. It has become a government of corruption, and special interests plying the halls with money to burn, and those with the most m oney to burn win the biggest prizes. The people of this country seem to have lost the ability to think for themselves.

I am warning you we have to find our way, and get back to our roots, or this country as we know it is going to head the way of many of the ancient civilizations tha once had it all, power, prestige, and wealth ending up in collapse. Wake up people...the Constitution does not guarantee you happiness, it guarantess you the right to pursue happiness, the rest is up to you.

Nails in the Fence

A friend posted this on Facebook, and I liked it so much I had to use it myself

There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His Father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence.

The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next

few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence. Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.

The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, 'You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. But It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound will still be there. A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one.

Remember that friends are very rare jewels, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share words of praise and they always want to open their hearts to us.'


Please forgive me if I have ever left a 'hole' in your fence

We leaves holes in peoples fences all the time through our anger and even meanness. When we call some one names or do spiteful things we are driving a hole in the relationship and those holes are always there for people to see and feel. Think before you say, and think before you do because you may never really know the damage you do to someone through your actions and or your words

New Posts

It has been a very long time since I paid attention to this site. When I started it, I was going to light the world on fire, and then things happened and I got sidetracked. I was out of work for an extended period of time I did some posting, but mainly sat around feeling sorry for myself, but then started a new job and pushed it all to the back burner. I have realized one thing, and that is my thoughts don't stop. Instead of a blog this could be called ramblings becasue I shift from one subject to another, but they are all near and dear to my heart. I am vowing now to start all over again and be more faithful to my writing. I am going to ask for accountability partners to keep me on track of at a minimum 1 blog per week but hopefully one per day. SO watch for some great stuf to be coming out of my head.

Geting Oldr and Older

It has been three years since I wrote the following blog about when Did I Get Old, and I am amazed at how much has happened the orginal post was this.....

Several things happened to me recently that made me ask myself this question. When did I get old? When did life speed by and leave me in the past? My daughter asked me to volunteer and help the Kingswood Ski Team setting up the race courses the other day. In a previous time I would have been to busy to be bothered with such mundane stuff, but in recent times I have realized how important it is to be able to do the small things with your family and friends. So I told her to tell the coach I would help. We got to the ski area and I rushed to get my equipment on, and proceeded up the mountain and with a special “wrench” in hand I proceeded to screw down the gates for the slalom course. It didn’t take to long for me to realize I am not as young as I used to be, my legs ached from standing on skis on such a steep incline, my shoulders ached from turning the wrench to force the screw on the bottom of the gate into the frozen snow. I wondered when the task would ever end as I looked down the mountain at the long snaking line of gates running to the finish line. I realize I am not as young as many with children my age as I was in my early thirties when Khrys was born. Later that day I was skiing down a black diamond with my daughter, I was at the top of the trail and Khrys started down the hill, I followed behind her watching her carve a line down the mountain. I believe I blinked once, and when I looked down the mountain she was gone.


I realized how that is with our children. We raise them and think they will always be there, but when we blink, and our eyes reopen they are grown and gone starting a life of their own independent of us. All we can hope is that we raised them properly and equipped them to live a life that would make us proud as parents. I remembered this little girl at my side when I was first teaching her how to ski. She held my hand and looked up at me with trusting eyes, as we waited for the chair lift to come around and take us up the mountain. Like most protective fathers, when the chair came around and hit me in the back of the calf, and forced us to sit in the seat, I reached in front of her to make sure she didn’t slip from the chair, as I brought the safety bar down. I took her down the mountain prodding her to remember her turns instead of barreling straight down the mountain. She was the headstrong one, and she tried my patience as we worked our way down the mountain. I then realized that I should put her in lessons. She was little more advanced than a straight beginner, but not yet up to the next level, so I sprung for private lessons for her, but being the protective Dad I hung back behind the lesson and watched her listen to the instructor and do as she was told. When her lesson was over I talked to the instructor, and he told me that this little girl with wide blue eyes had a natural talent when it came to putting skis on her feet. I remembered that as I looked down the trail and saw the graceful curves of her trail going down the snow. She is a natural at life, she takes things in stride, and moves on with pride and determination that she is going to make her mark on life in her own way. She is no longer that little girl that holds my hand and trusts I will make everything okay and safe for her. I realized then that I had grown older, and was no longer the required leader I her life, but in many ways a bystander, standing back watching her meet life head on. In many ways I realize she still does need me, but I also realize that I have to stand back and let her make her way in life.


I then look at my own fallibility and frailness as I reflect back on slipping on the ice and giving myself a concussion, with the headache that accompanies it. Then I was told by my wife that a friend of the family had passed away form a heart attack in his garage. I realize how short life really is. Earlier in December the music director from the high school’s life ebbed out after a battle with cancer. Time is short and we grow old and deteriorate, so take life one day at a time, and enjoy each and every moment as if it could be your last.


In the time that ela[sed since I wrote this post...my oldewst has come back from college, bought her first car and started her first "full time" job and taken over her own bills. The little girl I wrote about in the original blog has gone off to college, made Deans list her first Semester of college life , gone to New Orleans to work work on the Katrina Revitalization program during a school break, serves on the student senate at Johnson Statte College,a dn co-ordinate volunterr effort programs at the school. She is a self imposed perfectionist that strives to be the best at what she does. My youngest is in Middle School and developing into quite the woman she displays dignity and poise along with compassion and love in everything she does. What hurts is I don't want to give up that role of protector and guardian, and stand back and watch them make their mark on the world. It makes me proud to do this but also makes me feel ancient, and unneeded anymore. I am no longer the man who carried a screaming baby on my back up and down the street becasue it was the only way to get her to quiet down. I am no longer the man that the girls reach up and take his hand when they are scared, and frankly I am not adjusting well to the new role in my life. I miss th littel girls in pig tails and mud boots, but I am so proud of the ladies they have become. I love you all, maybe a little differently but I love them all the same

America: How We Got this Way

It is hard to miss that the united States is in an economic and social mess in this day and age. High unemployment haunts us at every turn, and does not seem to want to rebound. Foreclosures at extreme highs, real estate prices plummeting and not regaining. Every one points fingers as who is to blame, The Obamites blame Bush, the Bushites blame Clinton and Obama.

The truth is the Presidency while having some effect is not the total cause of the situation. Yes there were roots inthe Carter Administration that set the whole thing in motion when the edict came down that every American should be able to own a house, and as time worked its way around, and lending restrictions relaxed making way for the undocumented loans and sub prime loans as well as interest only payments the housing crash and economic demolition did begin. However if you dig deeper, you find the root cause of the problem. It is the people's greed. No longer happy with a small house with a master bedroom and the kids sharing a room, then a family room, kitchen and maybe a dining room, we started demanding a master suite with 1 bedroom for each kid, a play room living room, and ore and more space, much of which actually went underused. small 1000 square foot houses made way for 2,000, 3,000, 4,000 and even 5,000 square foot houses while average family size actually decreased. Add on top of that we want televisions in every room, and the kitchen has to have stainless steel appliances, imported marble countertops, and custom made tile floors, with pantries large enough to sleep in. Bathrooms have to have whirlpool tubs seperate shower stalls, and more. We could go on and on Closets have to be filled with shoes and clothes, but if you look at the labels, you find what used to be made in the U.S. is now made in China, Malayasia, Mexico, Guatamala, and other remote places. Our neighbors get more, so we want more becasue heaven forbid we can't fall behind. We demand raises and higher and higher minimum wages, thus driving the price of the products we make higher and higher, while we demand more and ore goods, so the manufacturers find countries with lower and lower wages and less restrictions to keep the cost down. What was once an extravagance susch as microwave ovens and mega sound systmes, become a neccesity we have to have them or we just can't survive, thus looking for cheaper and cheaper goods. We become a disposable society shoes we wera once or twice then go the back of the closet and eventually thrown out, so China's economy grows and our manufacturing base continues to shrink. If every American bought pair of American made shoes we could reopen most of the shoe factories in Maine and remploy thousands of people, but we won't because they cost to much and who can live with only one or two pair of shoes...(I have a pair of sneakers, a pair of work boots, work shoes 1 pair of dress shoes, and a pair of beach shoes,and my winter boots, that is it, Oh I almost forgot my one pair of well worn hiking boots that have hiked many New Hampshire Mountains, American made, and 36 years old but still look and feel in pretty good shape.) If we bought American made clothes, from natural fibers such as cotton or linen we would put farmers back to work, we would put textile mills back in operation. If we repaired clothes instead of throwing them out we would employ more seamstresses, and tailors. If we would buy 1 or 2 American made Televisions rather than having to have one in every room we would open more factories. Just think about it. If we bought more domestic goods rather than foriegn goods our economy would rebound very quickly. I we gave people hands up instead of hand outs we would have a very robust work force.

I hear the cry Jobs, Jobs, Jobs, where are the jobs the government promised us....face it folks the governement does not have the power to create jobs that are meaningful and self sustaining, they can expand governmment departments but those are tax dependent jobs. Only we can be the force to create more meaningful jobs b demanding American made products, thus putting more of our fellow countrymen back to work.The choice is ours, and ours alone. We were once a mighty manufacturing giant, but where are we now...those facotries sit vacant or are being demolished. Do we allow this to contiue to happen, or do we get offour asses and do soemthing about it, and rebuild this mighty country.

Change The Channel

Has life got you down?

Do you drag yourself out of bed?

Does it seem the world is against you?

My friend it is time

To change the channel of your life.

Change the channel of your life!

Face the life from the positive,

And see how your outlook does change.

Turn off the negativity,

And instead of dwellin in the wrongs,

Count the blessings,

God has bestowed upon you,

For even when it appears,

Bleak and darkest in our lives,

God is raining blessings,

Down upon you.

So I say unto you,

Dwell not on the pitfalls,

But call upon possibilities.

So wake up my friends,

Change the channel on your life.

All is not doom and gloom,

God is with us all our days,

Wanting the best inour lives.

Change the channel in your soul,

Face the day in a whole new light,

Let us look at what we have,

Instead of dwelling on that which we don't.

Change the channel of our lives,

Form darkness and despair,

To that of light and hope.





Paul H. Bartoswicz

The Honor Guard

On July 4th I had the honor of marching with the color guard in the Ossipee July 4th Parade. I use the term marcning loosely, because what this middle aged man with a damaged knee did could hardly be called marching even in the loosest sense of the word. It was more like a limping stroll down Moultonville Rd. It was the first time I had participated in the Parade in this capacity, and it was heartwarming to hear the applause from the viewers lining the side of the road. The warmth and sincerity was music to my ears. The girl who came up to me at the end of the parade and handed me a pin of the American Flag, and the smile on her face as I asked her to pin it on my shirt, and the hug she blessed me with afterward set a warm rush through my heart. What did bother me during the parade, and frankly it bothers me all the time when the flag is presented, is the lack of respect our national flag seems to get and how it seems to deteriorate every year. I was bought up to respect the flag, stand when it goes by, take my hat off and hold it over my heart. I was taught to sing the National Anthem with gusto and pride even though I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. When I joined the Navy I was taught to salute the flag even before requesting permission to board the ship. I was taught to treat it with honor and dignity, fold it with care, carry it with reverence, and above all to protect it with my life. I took those edicts very seriously,and still do. When many look at the flag they see a piece of cloth flapping in the breeze, when I look at the flag, I see the signers of the Declaration who were signing their own death warrant if things turned out differently. I see the men who shed their blood in places like Lexington and Concord, fighting a vastly superior army with much more training I see families who through the sweat of their brow and daily toils who carved out a little place for themselves in the American wilderness. I see the blood and carnage of Antietam, Bull Run, and Gettysburg. I see the bandages and the carnage in places like Flanders Field and the trenches of Europe in a world torn apart by war. I see the anguish caused by places like Normandy, Pearl Harbor, and the Phillipines. I see the pride in a group of Marines raising the flag on Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima. I see places like Pusan, Inchon, Quesang, Da Nang. I see mighty war ships with 16 inch guns, I see PT boats with their hit and run tactics. I see swift boats plying the brown waters of the rivers in Vietnam. When I see the flag I see mothers who are burying their sons, I see the tears in a fathers eyes as he sends his son off to war. I see 240 caskets lined up side by side and end to end for the peacekeepers in Beirut.

When I see a flag I see a country that rolled up its sleeves and worked together to get done what had to be done. I see a country who got together and pulled itself through the great depression. I see a flag that represents a country that looked to the stars and said what is out there, then worked hard to find out. I see a country that is able to overcome any adversity that is put in its way if we only work together instead of fighting each other. I see a country who proudly sends help when they see a neighbor inneed but does not ask for help in return.

My friends, that is what I see when I look at those colors go by or fly from a flagpole in front of some building. I don't just see a piece of colored cloth flapping in the breeze, I see 235 years of history. And when I render honors to those wonderful colors, I render honor to every man and woman who through the sweat of their brow worked to make this country as great as it is. Please think of this next time some middle aged guy limping along goes by in an honor guard with the American Flag proudly held out leading the way.