User:Bbstarrs

My name is Marie Starrs. I am a service missionary at the SLC FHL and would like to know how to contribute and help on the Wiki pages.

= places to live: =

humanitarian
Dream #1 When I was about 11 or 12 years old I had a recurring dream which I could not understand but which left a deep impression. It followed an exact pattern and began and ended the same way. I always woke up sobbing and never told anyone about it. It would go like this: I would be in our home at 8 Maple Street and hear an announcement on the radio that the Germans were approaching Woodstock for an invasion. My first thought was to warn my mother at the Post Office. So I dashed out the door, around the corner, down the street, up the hill, down the street, down the hill and into the alleyway that led to the business area of town. As I entered the alleyway I could hear loud voices calling for help so I go toward those voices and see a large, deep pit filled with people. There was my mother right in the middle of them. As I call to her I'm lying flat out trying to reach her. She comes close but the pit is too deep and I can't get her out. I look all around the alleyway for something I could use to pull her out but alas! Feeling desperate I lay down reaching for her crying, "Don't worry Mother, I will get you out. I will do whatever I have to do to get you out!" That's when I wake up sobbing!!

Dream #2 Fastforward 31 years to the time of my mothers death in December 1973. Within six months following her death I had two dreams about her that were exactly the same. They went like this: I was at a Post Office window in Woodstock visiting my brother Elliot who was now the Postmaster. I could see into the work room and there was my mother coming toward us. As she approached us I asked her why she was here. Her answer, "Because my work is not finished." That's when I wake up wondering what she meant.

Thirty-one years later when I went through a religious conversion I understood both of these recurring dreams and shall be ever grateful to my God who used these dreams to prepare me for what was to come.

She was a hometown girl and married a gentleman from away. A year after the birth of her ninth child, she lost her husband to an angina heart attack. Her husband, Dick Flower, had been a telephone lineman supervisor when he came to town some years before. A lovely telephone operator caught his eye so he courted and married her and changed her name from Margaret Marsh to Margaret Marsh Flower. At the time of his death he was the local Postmaster, appointed as such by the President of the United States. The villagers in Woodstock generously signed a petition to have Dick Flower's wife, Margaret appointed as the new Postmaster. Two weeks after the funeral she was working in the Post Office. With a prayer in her heart that she would live at least until her baby boy graduated from High School she forged ahead and never looked back.

There is a small town, nestled in the Green Mountains where I was born, raised and loved. My family was related to many people in this village and the rest of the village knew us all which made it somewhat difficult to get away with anything. A very protective thing, in retrospect.

Town of Woodstock, VT Municipal Managers Office

sandboxes

User:Bbstarrs/sandbox