The Stainless Trough

        This is not a totally joyous subject for me to write about.  I have been taught that wasting food was wrong and cleaning up your plate is a virtue.  I guess no one wanted food scraps in the trash or we thought it was terrible to throw away food when there were starving people in Africa. It is too bad we cannot deliver our extra food somewhere.

        Weight Watchers worked on me and helped me realize that throwing away food could be a good thing. (Of course, choosing smaller portions is the best plan.) Then, there was the strong idea that some of the food that we were not eating was not “food” any way!

        My dad used to light up when he would talk about an “all you can eat” buffet.  Many people I can recall, as far back as the 1960’s, used to consider these dining establishments the pinnacle of pleasure.  I am certain that those who grew up in the Depression would find them an expression of the affluent life.

        I tread lightly.  Now, it is November, 2013 and times have changed.  Thanksgiving is nearly upon us and we as a nation have so much for which to be thankful.  I have never been truly hungry and I just bought a 25 pound turkey for Thanksgiving.

        Last Saturday night, my husband wanted to take me out for dinner.  Now, honestly, I usually pick.  It is not that I always want my way, but that he never has an opinion. I pick the restaurant by default; unless we are with friends and can get someone else to choose.  On this particular night, however, he had a strong opinion and I, biting my tongue, agreed.

        He chose an “all you can eat” buffet of national fame.  It was recently in the papers for hiding food from food inspection.  The initials are G.C. (I have often wondered why it was considered to be “golden” and why people would want to eat at a place where horses were corralled.)   My name for it is Stainless Trough.

        I was hoping that we might have to leave, because there were not many parking spaces. We finally found one, so in we went. It was very crowded that night. 

        You get a tray, if any are available, and silverware, if the pieces you need are available.  You get a drink, if you want one, and pay before you enter.  There are few seasonal decorations, but the most overwhelming sight is people.  People of all shapes and sizes, who were clamoring for plates and getting in lines in six or seven areas for various parts and pieces of a meal, were the overriding view on this occasion. A meal of epic proportions one can eat here; yes, it is an “all you can eat” buffet.

        We were looking very hard to find seats and the only seats to be found were in the furthest corner from the food.  You actually had to walk further to get from our seats to the troughs than any other seats in the establishment. No wonder no one else wanted them.

        The salad bar, taco bar, pizza bar, dessert bar, ice cream bar and hot food bar were totally surrounded by people dipping in all that food.  There were utensils to dip food, but the children and some adults did not see the need to use such items; fingers are easier and faster. I can imagine Melvin Udall, Jack Nicholson’s OCD character in As Good As It Gets, at this place.

         The most popular area was the place for the steak. The steak was cooked to order and bore a label as to how it was prepared.  I can also imagine how some people I know would find it incredible that for $12.99 you can get all the sirloin steak you wanted and all those other meats and fish, too.

         Tread lightly…It must be terribly hard to keep a place clean with all those hungry people.  Tread lightly…I actually had to tread very lightly and watch where I was going, because of the children underfoot and plops of mashed potatoes and pieces of chicken skin on the carpet. There were stacks of used dished and utensils and plates on every table waiting to be picked up. The stainless steel rolling carts holding just washed dishes and silverware were everywhere, but you had to be careful, because some of the melamine dishes just did not look like they had made it through the dishwasher.

         I never liked to go to buffets, because I thought I ate too much and I just did not like to see all that food sitting out there for who knows how long.  I just prefer not to see it all laid out like that. Cleanliness is another issue.  When restaurant food comes out, served to you at a traditional restaurant; some how you have the illusion of cleanliness and freshness, even if not the reality.  On this night, I ate very little.

        My husband had three steaks, lots of mashed potatoes and gravy, all kinds of other items and several dishes of ice cream.  Before we walked out, he left the older woman, who fastidiously, refilled our drinks, a generous tip; then he walked to the ice cream area and got himself an ice cream cone for the road.

        On our way out, he remarked that it was pretty “bad” and “when you have that many people, it is hard to keep it clean”; but he seemed pretty content to me.  My mom used to say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.  (I will write more about that later. Not that I am an expert on men, or anything…)  Tread lightly…

        As for me, an old Danish proverb says it best, “When serving food, first put out the flowers, then putout the food."

          

                                                                                   

 

Joy Found Me!

     After a little more than a year of blogging, I just stopped.  Thinking that I had nothing more to say about finding joy in life, being too busy or being distracted; my motivation ended.  I did not want to stop: I just did.  "A Small Patch of Flowers" is  a blog about finding joy in life. Finding joy is not something that can be manufactured. It has to come from the heart. It is a terribly important subject in my mind and I did not want my posts to be trivial.  Today joy found me.
     Six and a half years ago, I was in a terrible accident when I fell off of a ladder trying to pull some vines off of my mother's old house.  It was a stupid thing to do.  My tugging and pulling caused the electrical wires to break, a transformer popped and I fell to avoid electrocution.  Six pins, a steel plate and a bone graft later, I had to learn to walk all over again.  A walker, wheel chair, crutches, cane, raised toilet seat, shower seat and wooden ramp became a part of my life. 
     Recovery was slow, but eventually I could walk normally.  It still takes a lot of mental concentration to go up and down steps, if I want to look natural.  That skill is definitely not easy even now.
     Exercise, especially walking, has been very important to me for weight control  and overall good health.   I have been very sporadic about it this past year, however.  Running is something I would repeatedly try, but could never do at all without tremendous stress to my injured leg. 
     I often visualize running.  Remembering what it was like to move quickly through space with arms and legs in a rhythmic movement.  The feeling of running and taking in the fresh air on a beautiful day were experiences  I wondered if I would ever enjoy again in this life time. (Who else dreams of running?)
     When I went to the basement this morning for a little walking exercise, I tried running as I usually do.  I was not expecting anything other than the usual awkward "hop-step".  I did not earn it, train for it or even deserve it, but today it happened.  I could run!   The feeling was absolutely amazing even though I was not outside.  I ran smoothly.  Yes, I did!
     "Okay", I asked myself, "Am I dreaming?"  I raced upstairs, woke up my sleeping husband and asked him to watch me run. I asked him if I looked normal and if I limped when I ran.  When my witness said that it looked normal and without a limp, I could not contain the joy. (Of course normal is a relative term.)
      I am so thankful.   (I remind you, too, don't give up on your dreams!)  Joy found me!

Christian Nation

      Christian Nation…the political ad stated that Barack Obama said in the Middle East that we are not a Christian nation.  The statement was considered offensive by the ad makers and to hear it spoken sounded very harsh and ugly. I thought:"How could he say this boldly in a foreign land?"  Then, I asked myself: "Is it true?  Are we a Christian nation?"

      A Christian is a follower of Christ or “one who professes belief in the teachings of Jesus Christ” (Merriam-Webster).  Would there be any doubt in a Christian nation whether the Ten Commandments could be posted?  Would there be any doubt in a Christian nation whether there could be prayer in any public school, building or venue?  Would there be any doubt whether the Bible could be freely taught or discussed?  Would there be any doubt whether abortion was acceptable? Would there be any doubt whether we could say “In God We Trust”?  I could go on and on.  Barack Obama is right. We are not a Christian nation. We do have many Christians who live here and have a glorious hope.

       Our hope is that someday we will be a Christian nation and all other nations will be Christian nations.  Until then, those who are Christian should let their lights shine in this very dark world. “.. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven. ...”Matthew 5:16

 Quotes by Barak Obama                            

"One of the great strengths of the United States is... we have a very large Christian population - we do not consider ourselves a Christian nation or a Jewish nation or a Muslim nation. We consider ourselves a nation of citizens who are bound by ideals and a set of values."  
 "Whatever we once were, we are no longer a Christian nation – at least, not just. We are also a Jewish nation, a Muslim nation, a Buddhist nation, and a Hindu nation, and a nation of nonbelievers."

 

Black Swallow Butterfly

Black Swallow Butterfly

       Willow sent me this story.  It is certainly about joy.  “I thought this would be nice for your blog. While we were in Ohio, 6 caterpillars ate all the parsley in our garden. Lee was ready to squish them, but I said, ‘Let's wait & see what they turn into.’ We saw 6 butterflies come out of their chrysalises.”

Working Together

    Today we held an event to mulch the pathways of our school garden.  We finally had our 16 large garden boxes built and filled this spring. The children planted all of the boxes with seeds.  A few families and teachers kept the boxes weeded and the pathways between the boxes mowed and trimmed this summer.  In  a year when it rained constantly for most of June and July, we did not have to worry about watering as much.  (Our resident groundhog and his family have been enjoying a lot of very wonderful eating and we are so glad that they do not seem to like cucumbers. Thus is the life of gardeners.)
    Today was the big day, a week before the school start date.  At last, we were going to groom this garden and make those pathways really finished looking by adding the mulch.  Putting down landscape fabric, newspaper and shoveling mulch did not sound like fun, but it had to be done.  Volunteers have not exactly been knocking down doors to help us out.  Three current teachers ; the 9 year old son of a teacher, who is on crutches: a recently retired teacher; and a young family with four children under seven made up the mulching crew. Please note that the children were every bit a part of this team! The 8 month old baby did his part by being so quiet and good while his parents worked. It was amazing that all of that truckload of mulch could be moved by this somewhat motley and, at times during the day, very sparse crew! 
     Working together toward a very specific and defined goal was the very satisfying part and seeing the beauty when we were done was the inspiring part. Some people could not stay until the job was complete, but that did not matter: they gave what they could.  From  7 AM to 1:30 PM,  the project lasted and it was really fun in spite of our preconceived ideas.  Being stiff was my badge of courage and feeling that special camaraderie that only working together can give was my joy!

Team Building

                                                             Team Building

        Our school staff went to an outdoor corporate team building event last week.  Everyone was dressed in outdoor clothes and prepared for an adventure.  We started indoors by getting to know each other by moving around the room and finding people we had something in common with.  Then, using a rope, we handcuffed ourselves together with a partner. We had to figure out how to get out of that and teach others the trick when we figured it out.  Finally, we did a little arm wrestling.  After each activity there was debriefing and figuring out what this had to do with the collaborative work we would need to be doing to build school success.

     After those activities, we went to the woods where we were divided into two groups.  Each group was given a different task with props and challenges.  Our first task was a gigantic teeter-totter, in which we all had to balance and move around on in specified ways.  For 13 people, that was not easy.  When our group completed that task, we moved to an area where the other group met us and we explained our task to them and they explained their task to us.  This, too, was difficult, because we could not see each other’s props.  Our second task was to beat the other team’s time completing a relay task, then tapping numbered circles with foam noodles in a specific order.

     The next task was to get everyone in our group through various sized panes made of bungee cord without touching the cord. Some panes were low and some were high.  When we switched with the other group this time, our final task was to stand on 2 foot long railroad ties and keep moving them forward without getting on the ground.

     There was always a consequence, if someone fell off or touched the ground in all of activities.  Usually, you had to start the entire activity over.  Obviously, these activities helped us to support each other physically and emotionally.  There were a lot of lessons we extracted from this fun day.  It was impressive that we felt such camaraderie in such a short time.  Everyone was needed and everyone supported and helped each other.  Lessons about leadership and working together abounded.  It was inspiring!

      Here’s an idea for our next team building event!  Put everyone in groups of four or five in a car with a map, written directions, a GPS system and access to Siri on an I phone.  Tell the group to take a trip about six hours away at a specified location.  See if they can cooperate enough to get there and get home without any irreparable damage to the relationship!  It is a risk!

     A trip on the highway with four friends and Siri was exactly what we did a few weeks ago. It was a road trip to Lake Michigan with the dearest of friends. We had all the equipment listed above and we still managed to get turned around a number of times.  Siri is not perfect, but she is entertaining!  None of us got our way all of the time (not even Siri), but we all got our way some of the time. 

     The best thing about cooperation is that we all get to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. We work toward the mutual good and discover that it is often better than our own way. If anyone says to you, “It’s my way or the highway”, pick the highway!  It is a lot more fun; especially, if you love adventure, challenges and team building! 

     

Learn Something!

           Driving to and from the elementary school in an economically disadvantaged urban community, where I teach, gives me a lot to think about. The boarded windows and the trash everywhere is sad. The bright spots are definitely the clean, well-maintained homes, though they are few. The innovative little businesses that pop up along the way are noticeable with their colorful, inexpensive signs, but these too are few and far between.  The churches offer rays of hope, but their influence is sometimes minimal. As one looks around, an older adult sweeping the sidewalk or planting flowers might be seen. These are signs that a few adults do care. Why would some even vandalize their own neighborhood or permit others to do so? Our beautiful school garden was vandalized last night for the second year in a row. It was not theft of the produce.  It was deliberate destruction. Why?

            The brightly scrubbed children with their hair neatly braided or combed stand with parents tightly holding their hands waiting for a bus.  There are others walking to school with loving parents guiding them and chatting on the way. There is something exciting and hopeful about going to school for the children wearing backpacks on their backs and carrying anticipation in their countenance.  The skipping, hopping, running and chatting show that many of these children do want to go to school. Their movement shows excitement. They are full of hope. It is rare to see a child under ten who is not bouncing on his or her way to school. School is about hope and opportunity.  Learning and discovery are fun and they know it. 

            What are we doing that robs these children of their hope?  What is it that turns the many children who care to only few adults who do?

            One of my favorite of all sights on my drive is the teenage student waiting at the school bus stop so oblivious to the world around him, because he is totally engrossed in a book. A book that can take him to a different time and place if he so chooses.  The desire to read that book can make a difference to the young person and the community, because it is within those pages that dreams are created and become real.  Why do some teens care so much and others not at all?

            Are we as a society too demanding or not demanding enough?  The passion and motivation for learning seem to slip away as the years go by for many of our students. Do we fail to encourage and discover strengths, because we are focusing on the wrong things?  We know that we are doing something that is not working, but we cannot see what it is. Are we learning how to solve our problems?

            One of my all-time favorite quotes is from T.H. White in The Once and Future King.   “The best thing for being sad," replied Merlin, beginning to puff and blow, "is to learn something. That's the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies, you may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins, you may miss your only love, you may see the world about you devastated by evil lunatics, or know your honour trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it then — to learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the only thing for you…”

            Will we as a society, as communities, and as human beings learn the lessons of cause and effect?  Will we learn as fellow sojourners how to improve our world and our individual lot in life? Can we keep hope and joy alive?  The only way to make something positive out of a bad situation is to learn something.  Will we?

          

A Joy-Seeker Reads the News!

       The newspaper of my city is getting smaller and smaller. I am not talking about the number of pages, though that may be true, too. The cost has remained the same, though less paper is being used.  People are getting their news from other sources and for good reason.  The internet is faster and you can pick and choose articles from a variety of sources.

      Our paper comes to our home on Thursday through Sunday. When we get our paper, sometimes it sits on the driveway even for a few days before someone bothers to pick it up.  Is it that we are apathetic about the world events or too busy to make it a priority?  

       The newspaper is not a bad newspaper, but a bad news paper.  The head lines of the days are on the front paper, followed by the most news worthy articles in the Section A.  None of them are about international trends or news that offers any hope.  The following sections headline bad news in the city, state, world of sports, world or business and world of entertainment.   Very little focus is on anything is productive or positive.  It is best to skim and scan, for sanity’s sake.

      The local city news section focuses on every perverted event that people in our general vicinity have participated in.  It talks about abuse of children, heinous murders, tortures and every sick, sick activity possible.  I can barely stomach the headlines, let alone want to read the detailed articles.  It is the same for the parts of the arts and entertainment section, specializing in sordid details about lives of our depraved celebrities.  I used to love both of those sections.

      The section that tells us what our television has in store for its followers for the week is another adventure in depression.  Researchers say that avid television watchers are more depressed than others. Is it any wonder?  We now have a hundred or more channel instead of 3 or 4 and there is still nothing of value to watch.   

      The Sunday paper is a little thicker and includes the travel section.  This has become my favorite, because you have “got to have a dream”.  The arts and entertainment on Sunday includes articles about upcoming cultural events in town, movies and new books, so I usually look at those parts, and only those parts.  I love the idea of going places and doing interesting things, even if it does not happen as often as I would like. It is always great to hear about new reads, too.

      I always look for jobs and property auctions in the paper.  I always know someone who needs a job and I think about finding some great property for nothing. Looking in these sections may be sheer habit at this point in my life.

     Then, there are the advertisements and coupons.  Honestly, I would be a lot more content and a lot wealthier, if I did not look to see what other people are buying “on sale” that I did not have.  The best thing for me to with these ads, as well as the most of the newspaper, is to take it straight to the recycle bin without passing “Go!”

      There is one part of the newspaper that is truly the best for joy-seekers, however.  It is a reflection of modern life that wallows in humor, sarcasm and subtlety.  You cannot skim it as you do with other parts of the newspaper.  You have to give it your full attention and take a hearty bite, not a nibble.  This part is not for tasters, sippers or cautious partakers.  Joy-seekers, this is your only consistent hope for the modern “hard copy” newspaper.  It is the only part where you are sure to find a belly full of joy and laughter, or, at least, smiles and a clearing of the brain.  There’s sure to be something that helps you laugh at yourself or remind you of a situation you can relate to.   As a joy-seeker, I applaud and appreciate the cartoonists of America, who brighten the days of so many with their cleverness and creativity. 

      Years ago, someone, who only read the comics in the newspaper, was considered low brow and uneducated. It was something that was mocked!  Someone who only read the comics was scorned and found himself the subject of jokes!  When I was a young person, I did not read comics too often,  because I did not think the comics were that worthwhile.  Now, I see how balancing the comics are!  Part of finding joy is learning to laugh at oneself.  Sometimes that is the best we can do!

Gold in my Backyard

      A friend recently asked me why I had not blogged in such a long time.  Someone actually noticed!  I was surprised.  Here are the reasons for my negligence:  end of school year busyness, family issues, critical life decision-making and a too-full plate in many, many ways.  Have I been too other-wise focused to see the joy in life?

      The friend that started blogging before I did decided to end her blog after a year of blogging.  She had decided in her blog to make an adventure of discovering the city she lived in after nearly thirty years of hating it.   She wanted to find the beauty and the joy in Cleveland, of all places.  Her beautifully composed blog explored this topic of finding adventure in your own backyard.  She summed up the lessons she had learned and ended her blog by literally saying, “Bye”.

      My blogging topic, on the other hand, is never ending.  Finding joy in life is a life-long journey.  Friend, I thank you for asking, because it reminded me to regain this focus. There are so many things concerning joy to write about. I want to share an experience concerning joy in my own backyard.

      I was picking up two girls at the Columbus airport for church camp. One girl arrived an hour before the other.  After getting some lunch, we had time to kill until the second plane arrived. 

      Columbus tourism is alive and well at the airport.  You can buy just about anything with the word Columbus, Ohio, Buckeyes or Ohio State printed on it. Some items are tasteful, even lovely and some are just tacky and useless.

      I saw the most amazing postcard at one of these airport shops.  It actually dropped my jaw.  It was a photo of a beautiful field of radiant, golden sunflowers that I had longed to see for many years; that I had even looked for in Normandy and Tuscany and did not find.  I had only imagined the beauty of such a sight after reading the novel, The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Yet, here was this postcard with the word OHIO on it. The postcard on said the picture was taken in Central Ohio. Yes, it was taken in my own backyard!  Sometimes we do not have to travel very far to find joy, the joy we are looking or longing for.  The postcard even had glitter on it: something gold with glitter!!!

Onion or Oak and What I Carry

        The saying in my high school yearbook said, “Life is like an onion. You peel away each layer and sometimes you cry.”  I thought it was a beautiful, meaty statement about life when I was 17.

         I look at life differently now. The onion metaphor does not seem to work for me any more.  As I get older, I do not think as often of peeling away something on a regular basis to get to the end: an end, which is an empty nothing, like the inside of an onion. It seems somewhat pessimistic. Though perhaps, I missed something in my understanding of this onion.

         I think of my life as more like an oak tree that each year gains a growth ring.  In good years there is a lot of growth added to the trunk and in other years the growth is smaller.  The growth we gain each year is the character we build and what we do with our lives to help us become stronger and align ourselves more to God’s plan for His people.

        The title of the book, The Things They Carried, is an interesting title to a book that is not as good as the title.  It makes me think of what we carry with us through life and what that says about our character.  It makes me think of what we would carry out of a burning house or what we would pick if we could only keep a few of our possessions.  It makes me think of ladies’ purses and what they value enough to take with them everywhere.

       Then, it causes me to think of invisible things that I carry with me from year to year and what those things say about me.  Is life a peeling away like an onion or building of layers like an oak?  Maybe it is both.

      What thoughts, ideas, habits and qualities do we carry with us from year to year?  Peel away the bad, the unnecessary, and the sin and build the layers of strength, character and sense of purpose.  Whichever the case, as it goes with peeling away, so it does with strengthening and character building: sometimes we cry. 

       I revised my two page resume last night.  I peeled away the unnecessary, the padding and I just went for the truly most important highlights of my career.  My resume is now, at over 30 years of teaching, smaller than it was at two years’ experience.  Does that mean that I have not done much lately or does it mean that I am finally able to see what is important? I hope it means the latter. Yet, I wonder: is my life more than a little piece of paper that speaks of my career?  What is worth carrying and what is not?

      What really mean something are the intangible qualities that I hope I have that no one can peel away, pare away or take away.  The intangible qualities that will show my Maker that I have grown in the ways that are important are what I am interested in keeping and transporting on life’s exciting journey.  I hope that the things that I carry are things like love, joy and peace.

Gardening Quotes for April

Gardening Quotes 

Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant. ~Robert Louis Stevenson

I think this is what hooks one to gardening: it is the closest one can come to being present at creation. ~Phyllis Theroux

Hope never dies within a true gardener’s heart. ~author unknown

The man who has planted a garden feels he has done something for the good of the whole world. ~Charles Dudley Warner

Hoe while it is spring, and enjoy the best anticipations. It is not much matter if things do not turn out well. ~Charles Dudley Warner

However many years she lived, Mary always felt that 'she should never forget that first morning when her garden began to grow'.”
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

“The greatest fine art of the future will be the making of a comfortable living from a small piece of land.”
― Abraham Lincoln

“My garden is my most beautiful masterpiece”
― Claude Monet

Run for Joy

       In the 60’s before running or jogging was in vogue, my dad intentionally parked over a mile from his downtown office.  Did he do it to save money?  Did he do it because he could not find a parking spot up close?  Maybe not…   Wearing a crisp suit, a white shirt, tie and hat on his head, with briefcase in hand he ran to work.  Running was his expression of an exuberant joyful attitude that identified this man.  Running is not just an action, but it is also a form of self expression.

       Running expresses an attitude.  “Immediately, when they saw Him, all the people were greatly amazed, and running to Him, greeted Him.” Mark 9:15 “Now as He was going out on the road, one came running, knelt before Him, and asked Him, ‘Good Teacher, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?’" Mark 10:17   “So they went out quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to bring His disciples word.”  Matthew 28:8 “Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it.” 1 Corinthians 9:24

       I love to watch children run.  It expresses enthusiasm that cannot be expressed in any other way.  Ask a child to come to do something special and the child will run.  Ask a child to do a chore and the child will walk or worse.  At school, we spend a lot of time teaching children to walk instead of running, leaping or bouncing.  I wish we could let them run.

       When I fell off a ladder six years ago, running became nearly impossible for me to do. I learned to walk quickly, but not run.  Lately, I have been practicing in the basement, because running is something I miss.  On a beautiful day, I imagine running and feeling the fresh air in my lungs and the sunshine on my face.  Running is better than walking to me.  Walking is good, but running is better.

      There is one thing better than running, however.

       “Now as the ark of the Now as the ark of the Lord came into the City of David …King David leaping and whirling before the Lord…”  2 Samuel 6: 16

            

       “Now Peter and John went up together into the temple at the hour of prayer, being the ninth hour. And a certain man lame from his mother's womb was carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the temple which is called Beautiful, to ask alms of them that entered into the temple; who seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple asked an alms. And Peter, fastening his eyes upon him with John, said, Look on us. And he gave heed unto them, expecting to receive something of them.  Then Peter said, Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have give I thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk. And he took him by the right hand, and lifted him up: and immediately his feet and ankle bones received strength.  And he leaping up stood, and walked, and entered with them into the temple, walking, and leaping, and praising God.”  Acts 3:1-8

Prayer in Public Schools

            No prayer in public schools!  I think of it when I am in the urban public school where I teach and someone asks me to pray.  I think of it when I send up a silent prayer in a moment of need!  I pray that God would help the people I work with, the parents, students and me.  I want to have love for others at all times and the wisdom to know what to do in the many difficult situations I encounter daily: I ask for this in prayer.  I think of it when I see a fellow teacher bow her head before eating her lunch.   No prayer in public schools?

            I remember when I was a child and prayer was allowed in public schools.   I remember when no one would think of eating a bite of lunch without our lunchtime prayer.  Even a snack was not to be consumed without prayer.   (Of course, many families had the same practices at home.)

            In December 2012 (so you know I am not reminiscing back too far), I went into a fourth grade class where the students were having a small party before the commencement of the Christmas holiday.  I helped the teacher arrange the food for the children. 

            It was nothing like the parties you would see in a suburban school with all kinds of colorful goodies arrayed on a bulging smorgasbord table. Instead, all of the desks were arranged in a close circle and the teacher had a small place mat on each desk.  There was a small cup with about a fourth of a cup of a fruit smoothie, a plate with about a half cup of popcorn, one Hershey Kiss,and a small wrapped candy cane on the place mat.

            There was such an air of excitement as the teacher invited the 20 students to take a seat and then begin eating.  One fourth grade girl said, “ No!”  She told the students that they could not eat before thanking the Lord Jesus for their food. Spontaneously, they all locked hands and raised their hands above their shoulders and began to pray in unison: “Lord Jesus, we thank you for this food! God is great, God is good and so we thank him for this food…”  They continued a very long version of this old prayer. At the end, they shouted: “Amen!!!” They all seemed to know this prayer and if any did not, they said it anyway as though they did!  Needless to say the other teacher and I were speechless.  I muttered something like that was very nice as I wiped the tears.

            Society has done a lot to squelch prayer and its practice in the past 50 years.  On many levels, it has succeeded.  However, as long as there is need, gratitude and a human longing for God there will be prayer, not just in foxholes and trenches, but in homes, churches, stores, factories, parks, wilderness areas and, yes, even public schools!

                       

Another Snow Day

        Another snow day…(a holiday from teaching and learning at school due to difficult weather)  Since we just had one recently, I was not quite as excited this time.  I was determined to get some things done and enjoy some time outdoors in the snow.

        Most of my plans to be outdoors went awry.  I planned to spend the day sledding with some children from church (Plan A), but my husband was worried about the watery mess.  Even though we had a lot of snow, it was the watery kind that felt like an ice-water-filled sponge when you squeezed it.  I succumbed to his wishes and went for Plan B, which was to help him shovel the driveway.  He got out there and did the job while I was busy with another chore. He did not tell me and did not wait for me. (I guess he did not realize that I really wanted to help.) Thus, “snow day” was having little meaning for me.  I was stuck inside. 

        Visiting a sick friend in the hospital was what I planned for the afternoon.  She was so sick that I could only stay a few minutes and kept falling asleep when I tried to talk to her.  I decided to leave. I had hoped to spend the afternoon with her. Even though it was not an outdoor plan, it did not go as I hoped either.

        However, the walk to and from the car to the hospital and a short walk in an old neighborhood provided just the experience that I craved.  My boots were keeping my feet dry as I sloshed through the snow.  The cold snow, now water, that had melted, chilled my feet as I walked but my socks and feet were dry.  The wet, moist air made me wake up and pay attention to my surroundings.  It was a beautiful mid-afternoon in March and I was walking, not inside a school building or around the house; but outside and breathing fresh, clean air!  That chilly, tingly feeling that makes you realize that you are happy to be alive came over me!  Kicking wet snow can be a hoot!

The Power of First Impressions

The Power of First Impressions

I was thinking about a restaurant I visited about 25 years ago and was remembering that the first impression I had I was not good.  I went back to see it tonight, because I am planning a private party. Its reputation is excellent and people rave about the food. I had to check it out, because the location was great for our event. When I got to the door, it was so strange to feel that same negative way again.  The atmosphere, under the guise of eclectic, presented a confusing, strange, cold message; I just did not like the ambiance at all for the second time. I had made the assumption that the first impression I had was not valid any more, but indeed my impression was not altered by a second visit. 

What about us?  Do we take care to provide a positive first impression?  Truly, we may not have a second chance. Is this talk just about impressing others?  Does it matter if we impress others anyway?  These are questions that beg to be answered.

My twenty-one year old son brought a young lady to our home recently.  I know that I did not make a good impression on her, because I treated him like a child, at one point in the evening. She probably thought I was a very controlling mother.  I apologized to my son and asked him to apologize to her, but I will never have another opportunity to make a positive first impression with her again.

I think first impressions are very important.  They hold the key to a relationship in many ways.  If my first impression of you is that you are loud, arrogant or lacking in character, I may not give you an opportunity to get to know me.  If the first impression I make is likewise poor, you may not give me a chance to become acquainted with you. Thus, the relationship is halted or permanently destroyed.

Impressing others is not what a “positive first impression” is about. It is not about vanity or show.  It is about putting our best selves forward so that a relationship can be built with a person that is like me or has something in common with me.  It is like an initial screening for friendship or fellowship. 

The quality of a first impression is nurtured through the much maligned form of conversation called “small talk”.  Small talk is really some of the most important talk we will ever speak, because it is talk designed to seek a common ground for friendship.  It is an amazing, delightful experience to find commonality among a fellow sojourner.

I do value lifelong friends, but I always hope that I will present myself in such a way that new people would be interested in getting to know me and even more so that I would show others a genuine interest in them.  The real key to making a positive first impression is, of course, an outgoing concern for others instead of a preoccupation with self.  This is a fundamental way to overcoming shyness and self-absorption., too.  Outgoing concern is a secret to a lot of great things in life. 

Is this talk about impressing others? No, it is about making a genuine loving human connection.  Does it matter if we impress someone?  No, it is not about showing how great we are.  It is about being our best self at all times.  First impressions are about getting rid of some of our unimpressive ways so that we can let our “light” shine through.  As Christians, it is simply, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in Heaven.”

A Snow Day!!!

           It is hard to say Calamity Day, when Columbus City Schools’ students and teachers alike look forward to having an unexpected holiday in the winter.  Calamity Days usually occur when the roads are bad due to snow, but we have had them over the years for power outages and frigid, below zero temperatures. For the safety of the children, the area schools are cancelled on these Calamity Days.

           This winter most of the bad days began or occurred on weekends or in the evenings when the salt crews had plenty of time to do their clearing.  The weather has been frigid and we have had quite a few inches of snow, but no Calamity Days, or Snow Days, as I prefer to call them.

           The teachers at my school have a little ritual, which helps us to not get too disappointed when the snow falls at the wrong time. On the day before the forecasted snowstorm, we do a lot of winking when we talk about tomorrow and tell ourselves and each other that we will probably have school. We assure the students that most likely we will have school on the morrow.  We take home what we might need if we will not be at school the next day, but we plan for the next day as though it will be “business as usual”.

           Yesterday, since the messy weather was forecasted for a Friday, we had to take home our weekend work, just in case.  Saying good-bye to the other teachers, as we leave the school, on such a day, is always, “See you tomorrow!”(wink, wink), but hoping we won’t.

           Then, there is my ritual of waking up in the middle of the night and checking the weather outside and getting up earlier than usual from sheer excitement and, finally, hearing the radio announcer say, “Columbus City Schools are cancelled today!”

           Today’s weather was slippery and icy with no real snow involved.  By 10 AM all of the problems with the roads had disappeared.  I cleaned; did laundry; went to the store; did taxes; paid bills; talked to a former teacher, who knew what a joy a day off from school can be; exercised for an hour; wrote some cards, read and cooked.  I also burned the bean soup I was making for dinner and the washing machine broke.  In spite of the totally mundane things I did, I felt thankful and joyful all day.  I really felt like playing in the snow all day long, even though that was impossible, because there was no snow.  After all, I have been a teacher or a student nearly all of my life and this was a “Snow Day”, a special treat in the lives of students and teachers, with no calamity at all.

                   This is what I would love to do on a Snow Day!

The Intruder

We had only been married for a short while and our sparkling new home seemed perfect.  We were working on decorating this place, sharing our lives and making decisions together that were binding us as a couple.  Then, the intruder arrived.

This intruder was a beaten-up, broken-toothed, black alley cat that my husband, Mark, found at his shop. The cat had been in many a fight and was filthy.  I assumed, as I saw him lying in the box of towels in our garage, that he needed to be cleaned up, fed and returned to the alley he loved. Mark wanted to bring him into our sparkling new house and nurse him to health. I could not have been more adamantly opposed.

Our family had a few cats when I was growing up and they were a delight to our whole family.  However, I remembered vividly the brand new carpet being ruined and a large spot on the hardwood floors being stained, when we brought the cats to my parents’ new house many years ago. I did not want déjà vu to occur.

I wanted our home to stay beautiful and the intruder could not be trusted.  My husband’s soft-spot for animals, especially this intruder, was definitely something that I intended to logically talk him out of. I was sure that reason would triumph. The cat was not allowed in the house. “We” were making plans about who would want this cat (since returning him to the alleys was clearly not an option for Mark) and making sure that “we” were not getting attached.

Any talk of naming him was nixed by me, because “we” could not get attached. Naming it meant a special connection.  It meant that this intruder might get an identity other than the nameless, homeless alley cat that he was.  What would be the point of naming it when someone else would want to give it another name?  Clearly, the cat did not need a name.

The first night the cat was with us, Mark gave him a bath.  I imagined that Mark’s arms would be scratched from shoulders to fingernails from giving this feisty, alley cat a bath.  To my surprise, the black cat with a white mark under his chin was totally white when wet.  His fur was extremely dense and beautiful and dried into shiny black.  However, when wet, he was white. (How could a black cat be white? I still do not understand this exactly, but it was true. Perhaps, it was because only the tips of the fur were black.)  When the bath was over the cat purred out loud and Mark received not a scratch. 

The next evening Mark’s mother was coming to dinner and we planned to show her the beautiful cat and ask her to keep it.  She was a lonely, divorced woman and needed a cat to keep her company, “we” decided.  As the evening progressed, the cat was not mentioned by this lonely lady’s son.  I kept gesturing, kicking and clearing my throat. Finally, he showed her the cat that he found and did not so much as even hint about her taking the cat. He said later that she would not want it and did not have room for it. Of course, he did not even ask. I was livid.

The rest is history.  The intruder moved in from the garage to the dining room, to the family room and, eventually, had free run of the house.  The ultimate intrusion occurred when I realized that the intruder was sleeping at the foot of our bed.

Mark would whistle the Andy Griffith (Mayberry R.F.D.) Theme Song and the cat would come. He did not hide like some cats; he enjoyed being with us. He would sit on our laps and was indeed a wonderful pet for seven years. Our carpets and floors were never ruined. The cat did not even shed. 

The cat did get an official name: Gatto. However, Mark had so many special, affectionate names for the cat it was hard to keep up with all of them.  The vet’s office had trouble keep up with them, too.  We, at one time, got four different notices from the vet saying that our pet’s shots were due.  Each of the four notices was addressed to the owners of Gat, Szgat, Zcat, or Gatto.  Little did they know that this was all the same cat. This nameless, homeless cat had more names and “special connections” than he could have ever dreamed of.  My name for the cat was Intruder. (Not all intrusions are bad and they can even be a source of joy.)