Why God Created Woman

And God said,

When I created the heavens and the earth, I spoke
them into being. When I created man, I formed him from
the dust of the Earth and breathed life into his
nostrils. But you, woman, I fashioned after I breathed
the breath of life into man because your nostrils are
too delicate. I allowed a deep sleep to come over him
so I could patiently and perfectly fashion you. Man
was put to sleep so that he could not interfere with
the creativity. From one bone I fashioned you. I chose
the bone that protects man’s life. I chose the rib,
which protects his heart and lungs and supports him,
as you are meant to do.”

“Around this one bone I shaped you. I modeled you. I
created you perfectly and beautifully. Your
characteristics are as the rib, strong yet delicate
and fragile. You provide protection for the most
delicate organ in man, his heart. His heart is the
center of his being; his lungs hold the breath of
life. The rib cage will allow itself to be broken
before it will allow damage to the heart. Support man
as the rib cage supports the body.”

“You were not taken from his feet, to be under him,
nor were you taken from his head, to be above him. You
were taken from his side, to stand beside him and be
held close to his side. You are my perfect angel. You
are my beautiful little girl. You have grown to be a
splendid woman of excellence, and my eyes fill when I
see the virtue in your heart. Your eyes: don’t change
them. Your lips: how lovely when they part in prayer.
Your nose so perfect in form, your hands so gentle to
touch. I’ve caressed your face in your deepest sleep;
I’ve held your heart close to mine. Of all that lives
and breathes, you are the most like me.”

“Adam walked with me in the cool of the day and yet he
was lonely. He could not see me or touch me. He could
only feel me. So everything I wanted Adam to share and
experience with me, I fashioned in you: my holiness,
my strength, my purity, my love, my protection and
support. You are special because you are the extension
of me.”

“Man represents my image, woman – my emotions.
Together, you represent the totality of God. So man:
treat woman well. Love her, respect her, for she is
fragile. In hurting her, you hurt me. What you do to
her, you do to me. In crushing her, you only damage
your own heart, the heart of your Father and the heart
of her Father. Woman, support man. In humility, show
him the power of emotion I have given you. In gentle
quietness show your strength. In love, show him that
you are the rib that protects his inner self.”


I've been searching for this for a long time. I don't know who wrote it, but I think it best says what a Woman really is.

A Tribute to John O'Quinn

I'm reposting a tribute to Mr. O'Quinn that I found in his guestbook. The tribute was written by Mr. Douglas A Burks, who was fortunate to know him. I reprint it here with his permission.

O'QUINN

The world has lost a treasure,
Lady Justice surely cries today;
Super Man with a super heart,
Houston's Big John has gone away....

As some people make a difference,
Others simply follow the crowd;
This one help set the standards,
He made all of Houston so proud....

His place in history is secure no doubt,
Turbulent times he handled quite well;
Being the Best can never be easy,
Being the Best can't always be swell....

John loved the law and it loved him,
Even when his heart was hard to see;
Juries were his best-est friends,
The moon was his with just a plea....

Yes, this one made a difference,
A beacon of light in a world sometimes dim;
I hope Houston takes time to remember,
Our larger-than-life John O'Quinn....


Yes, I was one of the lucky ones that worked with John and Johnny in the early 90's. I took several trips in the firm's flying suburban myself. Some people may try and place blame on driving a vehicle fast, etc., but if you were to ask John, he would tell you that Justice Shouldn't Wait for Any Man. Both John and Johnny were in crunch-time hurrying to a mediation and for those in the legal world, we all know that crunch-time is like defcon 4, the Emergency Room on a busy Saturday night, and overtime during the Superbowl all rolled into one. Sometimes, things do happen.

John was definitely one-of-a-kind. I remember sitting between him and Racehorse Haynes at one of O'Quinn's birthday parties. We used to have those upstairs at the Acapulco Bar. Those were always so much fun because we got to see John laugh, smile and act like a kid.

I remember the time that O'Quinn made us line up to get our Christmas bonus checks outside of his office. When he called my name, I went into his office and he thanked me for the previous year of service, etc. and then he handed me an envelope with my bonus. I remember telling him that I would trade him the contents of the envelope for his picture as SuperMan. After winning the money for the bull SuperMan, someone painted a picture of John as SuperMan. John usually kept the painting out-of-sight on the back of a pillar in his office. John said that I should keep my bonus, but he would see to it that I got the painting if anything should ever happen to him. That was the one topic that we always kidded about. I have a large collection of SuperMan items. I saw him at Robertson stadium years after I left his office and after we talked for thirty minutes or so, he remembered his promise to give me the SuperMan picture. He just said, that painting has your name on it.

I remember the time that we had a limitation of liability hearing in New Orleans on a major admiralty case. We worked until late at night and then John made the final call to the opposing attorney representing the shipping company. John told him that it was going to cost him 22 million to settle the case. The opposing attorney tried to get John down to 19 million or so. Without getting flustered or flinching John calmly told the guy that he was calling to settle the case -- not to negotiate the case; and then politely told the opposing attorney that he would see him in court the next day. Less than 24 hours later, they settled with John for over 32 million. Basically, the attorney's attempt to shave a few dollars off the negotiated settlement wound up costing his company a smooth 10 million dollars.

I also remember the time that I finally got my one-on-one meeting with John. I had made it through 68 hours of law school at STCL and John and I went over next door to the firm at Birraporetti's to discuss everything. John was wearing a black leather coat with the American flag on the back. He listened to my story and then agreed to help get me back into law school to finish at the University of Houston. As my luck would have it, less than a week later, he was named a Regent for the University of Houston. I remember him coming to my office and, instead of looking happy that he was now a Regent, he looked and acted sad that he could not help me get into their law school. He said that too many eyes would be on him and I totally understood. I was touched by his generosity and kindness.

There are so many ways to describe him, but John was truly unique. I'm sad that he is gone and my prayers are with Dean Treece, Carl, and all those that loved and cared for he and Johnny -- but I know that they are both finally laughing, smiling and acting like kids for eternity.

Douglas A. Burks
11/4/2009

THE LOSS OF JOHN O'QUINN

JOHN MAURICE O'QUINN
1941 - 2009

Do not stand at my grave and weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

Mary Frye

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For All Who Mourn

by Arthur Guiterman

That he was near to you
so many a year
But darkens you distress.
Would you he were
less worthy and less dear
That you might grieve the less?

He was a golden font
that freely poured
What goldenly endures,
And though that font be gone,
its bounty stored
and treasured,
Still is yours.

The past is deathless.
Souls are wells too deep
To spend their purest gains.
All that he gave to you
is yours to keep
While memory remains.

Who never had and lost
forlorn are they
Far more that you and I
Who had and have
Judge not the price we pay
For love that cannot die.


Those who knew him were truly blessed. The world was better because he walked in it. I pray that his legacy of generosity will continue on. God Speed, John.

The Touch of the Master's Hand

"Twas battered and scared, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,
"Who'll start bidding for me?
A dollar, a dollar - now who"ll make it two _
Two dollars, and who"ll make it three?

"Three dollars once, three dollars twice,
Going for three". . . but no!
From the room far back a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody,pure and sweet,
As sweet as an angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: "What am I bidden for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow;
"A thousand dollars - and who'll make it two?
Two thousand - and who'll make it three?
Three thousand once, three thousand twice
And going - and gone," said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We do not quite understand -
What changed its worth?" The man replied:
"The touch of the masters hand."
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and torn with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd.
Much like the old violin.

A "mess of pottage," a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on,
He's going once, and going twice -
He's going - and almost gone!
But the MASTER comes, and the foolish crowd,
Never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul, and the change that's wrought
By the touch of the MASTER'S hand.

~Myra B. Welch