Tapestry Ministries: Weaving Lives of New Possibilities

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FEATURE FAMILIES

MAKING A DIFFERENCE ONE LIFE AT A TIME

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed individuals can change the world. Indeed, its the only thing that ever has." ~ Margaret Mead.

TWO WOLVES

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.

He said, "My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: "Which wolf wins?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

LET US CHOOSE TO FEED GOOD

Many of us are familiar with the story of a young boy walking along a beach and stooping to toss starfish after starfish back into the ocean, a seemingly endless task. In fact, as he quietly perseveres in his mission, he is interrupted by a man who rebuffs him for wasting his time, telling him he is foolish and that what he is doing is not making a difference.

The boy simply answers, "tell that to the one I just returned to the ocean."

ONE PERSON CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE. WILL YOU?

I believe that each one of us can make a lasting difference in another's life, helping them to weave lives of new possibilities. In fact if we all would adopt the attitude of the young boy tossing starfish back into the ocean, I believe the world would be a much better place.

TAPESTRY MINISTRY FEATURE FAMILIES
Weaving lives of new possibility, one at a time

NEVER BELIEVE ONE PERSON CAN'T MAKE A DIFFERENCE!

If you have been touched by any of these family's stories, you may make a donation to the ministry and designate which family you would like it to assist.

The money raised in support of these families will be used to meet tangible and practical needs which these families have such as phone cards, gas cards, clothing and assistance with day to day expenses, and occasional treats.

INTRODUCING: the Padula Family, the Kairiene Family, Emily & Tadesha, and the Privratsky Family

THE PADULA FAMILY

July 11, 1989. A tragedy occurred on this day that changed the lives of two families forever.

A car accident, a death, and two family's lives altered. Not only the victim's family, but the family of the young man, Steve Padula, who was driving the car that ran a red light that late July afternoon. That accident resulted in the death of an eleven-year-old girl.

Over a year later, Steve Padula was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to twenty-two years to life in prison. He has not been home since the night of the accident.

Yes, alcohol was involved. Yes, he admits to wrong doing. But intentional murder? No.

So far Steve has served seventeen years of his sentence, and his wife Linda has remained faithful and loyal to the man she loves, and with whom she has four children. She works as a personal care assistant to a woman with MS, which affords her no benefits, thus she has never been on a vacation with her kids because she can't afford the time off without pay.

Similar cases have been tried as Manslaughter, not Second Degree Murder, in which case Steve would have served his time and be home with his family, the second victim of this crime.

In another similar case, a Congressman and former Governor was arrested for Vehicular Homicide, and only served a sentence of 100 days. The disparity in sentencing is disappointing and frustrating, as are the reasons for certain cases being tried as Vehicular Manslaughter and Second Degree Murder.

I have been called to be salt and light to this family and am asking God to use me if He chooses to bring Steve home early to his family. He will need to serve his full sentence in New York (until 2011) before he is eligible for parole. At that point, his youngest children will be in high school, having spent their entire life growing up without a father.

I received the following card from Steve after meeting him and visiting him in prison:

Kathy,

I had a great visit! I told Linda I thought you were a live wire. The one thing that stood out about you for me is you are full of life. Also your thoughtfulness! To come up here, take time away from your life and your family to care about me. I went to church Saturday and thanked God for you. You have given me new hope in my fight for freedom! I understand that nothing could come from all of your efforts, but I still truly appreciate everything you have done for me and will do! You are a rare individual.

"The vengeful will suffer the Lord's vengeance, for he remembers their sins in detail. Forgive your neighbor's injustice, then when you pray, your own sins will be forgiven." (Romans 14:7-9).

Steve

Steve Padula & Kathy Pride

THE KAIRIENE FAMILY

I met Rita in the fall of 2004 when I went on a Western Caribbean cruise with my family. I love a good bargain, and I had found what I thought was an unbelievable price on this cruise: 7 days for $399 per adult, our two daughters were even less. So for a week we sailed and sunned, swam and sojourned, especially enjoying Roatan, Honduras.

I always enjoy meeting new people and talking to them, hearing about their lives and experiences.

Rita was our room steward for our cruise, and I noticed her eyes immediately. Her dark eyes communicated kindness, but also a sense of longing and sadness, especially as she spoke to our girls.

Rita and I began to speak, more than the cursory conversation of room steward to guest, but mother to mother. I asked about her: Where was she from? Did she have a family? How long had she worked aboard the cruise ship?

I discovered that Rita is Lithuanian, is married and has two children, a son Mantas, and a daughter Laura, who is a year younger than my older daughter.

As we continued our conversations I learned that her husband Jonas was injured in a car accident at the age of 17 in which he lost a leg. He has not been able to find a job in Lithuania, so Rita works a ten month contract aboard the cruise ship supporting her family. That explained the wistful look I saw in her eyes.

She only spends two months out of each year with her children and husband. The other ten months of the year are spent serving people who are on vacation.

I have been emailing Rita, and sending a small box of clothing to her daughter every couple of months. She was hoping to remain home, but has returned for another contract, writing, "You've asked me why I decided to go to work on the ship again?...It is the only one reason, because I alone in my family can provide a better life for them. As you know, my husband has no leg, so I went one more time to work on the ship, but it is not easy for me to stay so long away from my family."

Rita shared the following with me in her most recent email:

People come to your life for a reason, season or lifetime. When you figure out which one it is, you will know what to do for each person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON…

It is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend, and they are! They are there for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrongdoing on your part, or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered. And now it is time to move on.

Then people come into your life for a SEASON…

Because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn. They bring you an experience of peace, or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never known. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it! It is real! But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons: things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.

Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person, and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.

I recently received the following note from Rita:

Hello Dear Kathy,
I would like to say to you, that I appreciate your kind heart. And I want to wish you everything best in your life. God bless your family. Thank You, Rita.

Rita and her family; husband Jonas, son Mantas and daughter Laura

EMILY AND TADESHA

Meet Emily and Tadesha. They came to the United States in 2000 as a last chance to save Tadesha's life. She was 15 years old and weighed 67 pounds, her body ravaged by a rare, genetic disease called Epidermolysis Bullosa. She is only one of seventeen individuals diagnosed with this form of the disease alive today.

They came to the United States with the help of a Pennsylvania doctor and nuns working in Jamaica and settled in Danville, PA where Tadesha has been receiving life saving treatment at Geisinger Medical Center. While EB is a skin disease, it is also systemic and has affected Tadesha's sight and respiratory system. She is blind despite several unsuccessful attempts at corneal transplants, and has a permanent tracheostomy in place.

Tadesha graduated from Danville high school in 2005 and matriculated at Susquehanna University in January of 2006, where she maintained a 4.0 GPA despite being blind, including an 'A' in Statistics!

Tadesha's mother Emily has remained in the United States while Tadesha has undergone treatment and has been in school. She is anxious to return to Jamaica where her husband, other children and grandchildren live.

While an academic scholarship will support Tadesha in college, the family still has many needs.

THE PRIVRATSKY FAMILY

Second Chance

By Shaunna Privratsky

"Code Blue! Code Blue!"

The hallway outside the family waiting room erupted as a strident alarm and flashing lights accompanied the urgent summons over the loudspeaker. Paramedics, doctors and staff rushed by...in the direction my forty-two year old husband Wade had gone a few minutes before.

My body knew before my mind did. My heart began to race, my stomach churned and the magazine I had been reading slipped forgotten to the floor. Inside, I started to pray harder than I ever had before. "God, please don't let it be Wade..."

Thirty minutes later I got an answer, but not the one I desperately wanted. The surgeon came and told me haltingly that the Code Blue was for Wade. "Your husband's heart stopped six times and we had to shock him repeatedly. He had no spontaneous pulse for approximately thirty minutes."

I almost blacked out, but managed to ask "Is he still alive?"

"Yes. He was rushed to the ICU Critical Care floor at the downtown facility."

It is a miracle that I drove the thirteen long blocks without an accident. Everything was a blur of tears as I tried to fathom what could have happened. I was to learn that even the doctors couldn't tell me that, during the long summer of 2003.

Wade was young for needing hip replacement surgery, but doctors had confirmed that both hips were basically disintegrated from a congenital birth defect. He was born with his hips slightly out of line, and the constant rubbing of bone against bone wore his hips down to nothing. The last five years were a constant struggle to work despite the pain. In February, Wade's surgeon ordered him to quit his grueling ten-hour-a-day shipping job, putting it in no uncertain terms. "Unless you want to be in a wheelchair the rest of your life, you will quit."

So the morning of June 23, 2003 Wade and I arrived at the clinic for the first hip replacement surgery. The surgeons never even got started. Five minutes into the anesthesia, Wade's heart stopped and the Code Blue was issued.

There was another long wait at the Emergency Room at the other hospital. The room was designed to soothe, with soft pastels and upholstered chairs. Yet my nerves still jangled with tension and fear. Finally I was able to see Wade for a few minutes.

His green eyes stared through me, unresponsive. His skin was unnaturally white and clammy. There was the beginning of a huge bruise on his chest that later darkened to purple, then green and a sickish yellow. Tubes ran in and out of his arms and chest.

The room started to spin and I said "I need to sit down." A nurse hustled me out of the room and it was four hours before I saw Wade again. When a loved one is critically injured, most of your time is spent in waiting rooms. Consequently, I became close with several families facing a similar ordeal. It humbled me to realize that every day tragedy strikes, and there is no guarantee that it won't affect your family.

When I was finally allowed to see Wade again, he was hooked up to a ventilator and a monitoring machine. I saw nine tubes snaking in and out of his inert body and stopped counting. The doctors were optimistic. Wade was young, with no prior history of heart damage, so they expected him to wake up the next morning and begin recovery. They estimated two, three days tops in the hospital.

At the nurses' urging, I left the hospital at 9:30pm to go home and try to get some sleep. I tried to force some food down, but it tasted like ashes. I kept picturing the last glimpse I'd had of Wade. His saucy wave, familiar smile and the twinkle in his eyes haunted me as I lay sleepless. Would I ever see that spark of love in his eyes again? Was I doomed to sleep alone in the bed we'd shared through twelve years of loving marriage?

The next morning brought devastating news. Wade still hadn't woken up and a team of neurologists declared he had suffered permanent brain damage due to the lack of oxygen to his brain, called anoxia. It was too early to tell the severity of the injury, but the prognosis was grim. Wade was in a coma, a coma that lasted six agonizing days.

When Wade finally opened his eyes, it wasn't anything like the movies. There were no triumphant swells of orchestra music, no cheering, no fanfare. His eyes were very unfocused and weak. The doctors said he probably could only see shadows. I took it as a good sign and increased my efforts to talk to him, to plead with him to come back to us, to fight with all of his strength.

When Wade first squeezed my hand, I cried. I saw the tears well up in his beautiful eyes when I told him I loved him. I reassured him when he began to understand what had happened to him. I calmed him down when he began fighting the breathing and feeding tubes. I protested when doctors wanted to be cautious and wait longer to take the tubes out.

I'd secretly hoped that once the tubes were out of the way, Wade would be able to talk. That wasn't to be. He had to relearn to speak, eat, walk, dress himself and move around unaided. Since his brain was damaged differently than in a stroke, he learned quickly, but it was still eight long weeks before the doctors released him into my care. Eight weeks of intensive physical, occupational and speech therapy. There were times when Wade cursed and yelled from frustration. There were times when we laughed, times when we cried together over everything we'd lost. Each step of the way was agonizing to watch, but Wade slowly but steadily improved.

The first day the children were allowed to visit is etched in my memory. The joy in Wade's eyes lit up his face when he saw Erica. He smiled and said "Pretty." He called Alex his "big guy" and hugged them both close. After that, their daily visits spurred him on to keep working at his therapies so he could go home.

Through it all, my friends and neighbors marveled at my strength - but it was not me. I prayed daily, sometimes hourly, for God to give me the courage to be strong for Wade. Without His loving embrace, I would have succumbed to despair.

For years, Wade was my strength, the one I could depend on when I needed comfort. Now I am his rock, the one who helps him cope with the day to day trials when confusion clouds his mind.

In a way the nightmare is still with us. Although Wade has made enormous strides of recovery, he is still in the early stages. Doctors are doubtful of a full recovery and unsure of the future.

I look at all that Wade has triumphed over and my hope is renewed. Once they said he may never wake up, but he did. They said he might never be able to come home, but they were wrong. They recommended putting him in a nursing home for twenty-four hour care, but I refused and took on that task myself.

Often it is a struggle to be the only wage earner. My time is torn between two part time jobs, the kids and Wade. I squeeze my one passion, my writing, into whatever spare seconds I find. Without the release of my pen I'm not sure how I could cope. The outpouring of well wishes, prayers and encouragement from friends and even strangers keeps me going in my darkest hours.

Wade is home with us now, home where he belongs. He delights in watching movies with Erica and Alex or helping them with their homework. When we go to bed we never fail to say "I love you" for we've learned the hard way that we don't know what tomorrow holds.

At the beginning of the summer I thought everything had been taken away. A part of my husband was lost, perhaps forever. However, a realization has been steadily growing throughout Wade's recovery.

God has given us something precious, a second chance. A chance to live each day to the fullest. A chance to brighten someone else's day with just a smile or a sympathetic ear. A chance to realize God's incredible strength when we call upon him in our time of greatest need. Together Wade and I will get through whatever the future holds, one precious day at a time.

NEVER BELIEVE ONE PERSON CAN'T MAKE A DIFFERENCE!

If you have been touched by any of these family's stories, you may make a donation to the ministry and designate which family you would like it to assist.

The money raised in support of these families will be used to meet tangible and practical needs which these families have such as phone cards, gas cards, clothing and assistance with day to day expenses, and occasional treats.