Toothpaste, Tortoises, and Hares

Boys and girls please join me on the carpet.  My 26 students start to ruffle their way to morning meeting.  Some students sprint to guarantee a front row seat.  Others take their time sauntering to join us.  "My class has its share of tortoises and hares," I think to myself.

"Who would like to help me with our lesson this morning?" Instantly 26 synchronized hands pop up.   I scan the crowd for just the right volunteer. 

"Johnny, would you please come up to the front?"  Johnny has been crawling in the back area of the carpet I refer to as South Carolina.  My first graders find this humorous since our school is in North Carolina.  

"Ok," Johnny replies with some hesitation.  As Johnny makes his way through the maze of his classmates to join me at the front, I pull my lesson materials out of my morning meeting bag.  My supplies consist of a paper plate and a small tube of toothpaste.  

"Johnny, please open the toothpaste for me." Johnny opens the toothpaste as his classmates are still struggling to find a  comfortable seat on the carpet.  "Now, Johnny, I need you to squeeze all the toothpaste out onto the plate." 

"Are you sure about that, Miss Deem?" Johnny asks.  "Yes, I'm  sure,"  I reply with a grin.  Johnny sees my smile and starts to squeeze.  As Johnny coats the paper plate with toothpaste the other children chuckle to each other as they watch eager to see what becomes of Johnny's toothpaste pile.   When Johnny finishes squeezing the toothpaste he hands the plate back to me.  "Okay, Johnny, now I need you to put the toothpaste back in the tube."

"But I can't, Miss Deem."

"Would you like to ask a friend to help you?" I ask.

As you might have guessed, Johnny wasn't able to get the toothpaste back in the tube or to get any of the kids to help him do it.

"Thank you, Johnny so much for your help.  Please have a seat."

"Boys and girls, our words are like this toothpaste.  Once we speak them, we can't take them back. If we don't choose our words carefully, they make a mess that can't be cleaned up."

"Miss Deem, how do we clean up our mess?" Susan asks.

I'm sure many of you have used this demonstration in your classes before.  I don't recall who first shared this idea with me.  What haunts me about this lesson is Susan's question.  How do we clean up our mess when we speak without thinking?

I have a friend who taught me how to clean up my mess.  

He taught me to always choose kindness even when confronted with meanness.  He taught me to turn towards Christ when I'm lost.  He taught me that family and friends are the best gifts we receive.  

He taught me that C.S. Lewis was right in the The Four Loves. Lewis writes that there are four kinds of love that make life meaningful.  Christmas commercials would have you believe that romance is the most important kind of love.  Lewis writes about romance, but he also goes into great detail about the value of affection, friendship, and charity.  My friend is kindness in action.  He is happiest when he is serving others.

My friend's generous spirit and gift for hospitality have uplifted me on more occasions than I can count. He helped me through my first Christmas without my mom.  He has helped me though personal and professional challenges.  He taught me to make every day an occasion to celebrate.   He taught me to love with my whole heart.  He taught me "a friend loves at all times." Proverbs 17:17

I am filled with gratitude for my friend's example.  I am blessed to know and love him.  Most people know him as Fr. Christopher Senk.  To me he will always be Padre.  Thank you, Padre, for being you:)

Pay Attention, Ellen

I've been thinking a lot about paying attention lately.  

Every year I look forward to Advent.  When radio stations started playing Christmas music the day after Halloween, I decided to embrace it and see it as a reason to have a longer Advent.  Every year I look forward to sharing my childhood memories of Advent with my students.  I look forward to seeing the singing Salvation Army guy at our local grocery store.  His name is John, and he mans his red bucket every year with radiance.  He greets everyone with Christmas carols and blessings for a Merry Christmas.  His commitment to helping others has made a lasting impression on me.  Every time I go to the store I wonder how many people's day he has brightened that day.  He has become part of my Advent.  Without knowing it, he is helping me prepare my heart for Jesus.

This year Advent has me reflecting a lot on past Christmases, too. 

Recently I was talking with a friend who was up early waiting in line to obtain that special Christmas gift for her child.  I told her that one of my favorite Christmas memories was of the year I was in first grade. My parents and I made ceramic ornaments together.  I'm not sure why my brother didn't make any.  (Maybe it was because he was four years old at the time.) :)  I remember loving the activity and cherishing the extra time I spent creating with my family.  What I can't tell you is what Santa brought me that year.  What I didn't know at the time was how much my parents were struggling financially.  My Mom had planned the ornament activity to add some magic to our Christmas.  I'm certain she and my dad sacrificed a lot of financial resources to make my brother's and my Christmas wishes come true that year.  What I remember most is the invaluable time I spent with my family.

I also remember our first Christmas without my Dad.  I know it took great courage for my Mom to prepare for that holiday.  She gave me a glass bookcase to house my collector dolls.  My Dad had always wanted to make me one, but his cancer prevented him from making a display case for me.  Every time I've looked at my dolls in that case since, I am reminded of how much my parents loved me.  I'm reminded of how my father fought cancer bravely and without complaining for 3 years.  I'm reminded of how my Mom worked full days and spent her evenings at the hospital with my Dad.  I'm reminded that the best gifts I've received in my life aren't housed in that glass bookcase.

About a month ago, I had the privilege of a quick visit with my friend from college and her son.  They were beginning a week of college visits.  Her son has Friedreich's ataxia, a rare form of muscular dystrophy that affects the neurological system.  This condition will make it increasingly difficult for him to walk and could shorten his lifespan.  What I witnessed while they stayed with me was incredible courage.  My friend is determined that her son live his life to the fullest, and their whole family is invested in helping spread awareness and support for finding a cure.  They are choosing to trust God as they face this together.  She reminded me of the importance of facing my problems head on.  I can't climb the mountain if I'm not willing to hike to the foot of it first.  Without knowing, she and her son also helped me prepare my heart for Jesus.

Every morning before I go to school I pray for patience with my students.  I know I'm not alone in my fear that I fall short sometimes, especially this time of year.  

Teaching in a Catholic school is a privilege, and I love the extra activities we get to do.  Our schoolwide prayer services on mornings we don't have Mass are something I look forward to every year.  I love having the freedom to play different Christmas songs that focus on different parts of the story of the Nativity.  Lately, I have wondered if I'm getting too distracted by my to do list to savor these blessings.  Lately, I have wondered if I'm missing the light these special activities give to all of us. 

Today is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception.  It's a holy day for Catholics, and we don't have school so that families are able to attend Mass.  As I have had time to reflect today, I have promised myself to slow down, pay attention, and let my light shine more.  My tasks will get done.  They always do.  My first graders will never experience Advent as a first grader again.  I want them to remember decades from now that Advent at school was a special time of anticipation, joy, and light.  I want them to leave first grade faith filled and encouraged.

Today also is the birthday of one of the most courageous friends I've ever had.  She taught me to stand up for what I believe in, to not be afraid to take risks, and to use my gifts to help others.  Her life was short, but her impact on mine remains.  She fought leukemia with courage.  I miss her every day.

I am beyond grateful that Tese was my mentor and my friend.  Her support and love continue to impact my teaching and my life.  I am stronger because I knew her.  I dedicate this post to her.