Memories are harmless treasures of the heart". So, here is the collection of valuable treasures found inside the book which aroused from the writers' deep heart. Each write ups will provide the readers a mixed variety of emotions when it is taken deep into their heart. The writers' memories ranges from joy to sorrow, happy time to period of suffering and every kind of experiences. I hope readers also will enjoy and travel along with book's journey to the past

Here I am setting back and enjoying my vacation Photography is one of my hobbies besides cooking and I love being behind the camera it's exciting seeing how the picture will come out. My book is about the places I have been having fun while taking picture, so I hope you can enjoy my book after all its memories of yesterday.

I was somewhat apprehensive to return to work after a five-day vacation at the Ritz-Carlton Psychiatric Convention Center. After taking a deep breath, I prepared myself to be greeted by true friends who would tease me about playing checkers with the likes of Mrs. Coca-Cola and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Marie asked me how my vacation was. I nodded to the affirmative. We all had a good laugh at their loving insane insinuations. Party time was soon over, and my thoughts were back in the real world. I went to the floral department and thought, I wonder if Id remember how to make an arrangement? Instead, I started off slow and made a boutonniere. Easy enough, I thought to myself. With pride in my heart, I smiled because I still had the touch of doing them both Thankfully, soon it was break time. I ordered an Apple Fritter and a diet Dr Pepper. (Youre rightit makes no sense. But Ive been eating that combination for the past twenty-four years in the grocery business, and I have a waistline to prove it!) I was heading for the break room, as usual, when a familiar feeling came over me, and I saw myself in the eyes of another. I dont know why I slipped into their isolated booth in the stores small dining area. Across me was a very young and frightened woman sipping on a cup of coffee. She had tears streaming down her cheeks and looked rather startled at my appearance. But I had the feeling she was waiting for me. Although we were not formally introduced, words came freely between us. She spoke of her fears and frustrations. As she spoke, I listened, and my own struggles flashed before my eyes. We spoke candidly of her darkest secretone of sanity. I smiled as I told my new friend that the healing comes when you start believing in yourself. As I watched her, I recognized myself and was somewhat frightened for her. You see, its sad to lose yourself and your family and blame God for an illness you have no control over. To my surprise, I felt something brush up against my feet. I peeked under the tablecloth and discovered a fair-haired boy who was three years old. The young woman reached down and scooped him up. She cradled him in her arms, and he sucked on his thumb, then he quickly disappeared as he appeared. I smiled as I peeked under the table and saw an all-too familiar world of childhood imagination. I thought back to a time when my girls were very young. Like this boy, they too were victims of this cruel illness. We sat at the corner booth for a long time. Then the young woman began to weep again. Why would God do this to me? My mind flashed back in time once more to an unsettling time in my life. She took another sip of her coffee, and we spoke of her son. As she spoke of him, she smiled with her eyes, and a calm feeling came over her. We spoke of our lives and the roads we chose to take. As one living with mental illness, my advice to her that day was, Healing begins when you believe in yourself. To this very day, our paths have never crossed again. I have no idea what struggles this young woman had. All I know for sure is when we talked, she eased my troubles for a while by focusing on her own. I guess thats what life is all about. John, my husband of forty-five years, has been there with me every step of the way. If not for him, things couldve turned out very differently. I could have lost my life, my family, my sanity, and my faith in God. Through it all, there has been one constant thing in my life. When we spoke our marriage vows, nothing was said of until death do we part. What we said was for time and all eternity. On my darkest days, John would say, Honey, you just have to get better soon because we vowed to love each other forever, and forever is a very long time.

George E. Saurman looks back at a life filled with adventure, beginning with his birth in Houston in 1926 and through his twilight years at a Pennsylvania retirement community. Within a year of being born, his family moved to Baltimore before finding a permanent home in Pennsylvania, but it wasnt long before they were immersed in the Great Depression. With Saurmans father out of work, his mother supported the family as a hairdresser. Saurman recalls being mentored by his grandfather, who taught the importance of living life according to the Ten Commandments and the Book of Proverbs. He also shares what it was like growing up as a boy in the 1930s and early 1940s. With the arrival of World War II, he joined the Army and eventually went to basic infantry training. He served in the infantry for the duration of the war. Hed have the great fortune to meet his future wife, Mary Elizabeth Ewen, at Ursinus College. They enjoyed a sixty-two year marriage and raised a wonderful family, and she supported him throughout his career as a businessman, borough councilman, as mayor of Ambler, and during his fourteen years as a member of the Pennsylvania House of Representatives.

Austrian writer Stefan Zweig's final work, posted to his publisher the day before his tragic death, brings the destruction of a war-torn Europe vividly to life. Written as both a recollection of the past and a warning for future generations, The World of Yesterday recalls the golden age of literary Vienna; its seeming permanence, its promise, and its devastating fall. A truthful and passionate acc[Bokinfo].

Before 1865, slavery and freedom coexisted tenuously in America in an environment that made it possible not only for enslaved women to become free but also for emancipated women to suddenly lose their independence. Wilma King now examines a wide-ranging body of literature to show that, even in the face of economic deprivation and draconian legislation, many free black women were able to maintain some form of autonomy and lead meaningful lives. The Essence of Liberty blends social, political, and economic history to analyze black women's experience in both the North and the South, from the colonial period through emancipation. Focusing on class and familial relationships, King examines the myriad sources of freedom for black women to show the many factors that, along with time spent in slavery before emancipation, shaped the meaning of freedom. Her book also raises questions about whether free women were bound to or liberated from gender conventions of their day. Drawing on a wealth of untapped primary sources--not only legal documents and newspapers but also the diaries, letters, and autobiographical writings of free women--King opens a new window on the world of black women. She examines how they became free, educated themselves, found jobs, maintained self-esteem, and developed social consciousness--even participating in the abolitionist movement. She considers the stance of southern free women toward their enslaved contemporaries and the interactions between previously free and newly freed women after slavery ended. She also looks closely at women's spirituality, disclosing the dilemma some women faced when they took a stand against men--even black men--in order to follow their spiritual callings. Throughout this engaging history, King underscores the pernicious constraints that racism placed on the lives of free blacks in spite of the fact that they were not enslaved. The Essence of Liberty shows the importance of studying these women on their own terms, revealing that the essence of freedom is more complex than the mere absence of shackles.

Poems The poems I write Are usually read at night They make you think Of taking a drink The times that used to be They aren't there anymore don't you see Of what happened yesterday It is never about today Most of them are sad They never make you mad They make you wish for tomorrow Only life brings you sorrow For time to be as good as yesterday You would have to be able to live in today You once were young Life for you had begun You could change the path You did not have to cause wrath The path you took in life It was changed by strife I wrote about hindsight being twenty-twenty With life you have plenty