The View from Here

Attitude

I told you earlier that I have spring on my mind. And each spring I lament the fact that I’ve yet to come up with a wonderful “one size cures all” solution for the students in my classroom who just don’t want to learn. There’s at least one in every classroom: a student with great potential and a lousy attitude. I’ve found this to be true in every school I’ve taught in, worked in, and attended as a student. I can even remember four of my high school classmates who were classic underachievers because of their attitude. Few parents, and even fewer students, truly understand the relationship between attitude and  success. I would rather work with a child on the lower end of the academic scale who wants to learn, than struggle with one who is smarter, but unmotivated. It’s a constant battle to keep some of my students “on task”. I just keep trying to find the key to each student’s attitude and help them as much as I can in one short year.

Education is changing and evolving into something very different from our childhood experience. We live in a world overflowing information. We can no longer hope to teach our children 1/10 of what they need to know. Instead, we need to concentrate on developing students who know how -1. how to work with people, 2.how to find information, and 3.how to get things done. Students need to be cooperative, creative, inventive, understanding, willing to work, respectful of the rights of others, and determined to succeed, even if success requires hard work and a change in their attitude. Attitude, not ability, is the real key to school success.

Webster lists seven meanings for the word attitude. There are three that I think relate to school success. (4) a: a mental position with regard to a fact or state b: a feeling or emotion toward a fact or state. (6): an organismic state of readiness to respond in a characteristic way to a stimulus (as an object, concept, or situation) (7): a: a negative or hostile state of mind b: a cocky or arrogant manner.

Some students adopt the mental position that anything worth doing must be enjoyable. Nice work if you can get it, but they have to learn that all schoolwork is important. No one goes through life doing only what is fun!

Equally frustrating is the child who won’t try anything that looks remotely difficult. They are in a constant state of readiness called “fight or flight”. In frightening situations our primal response is to either stand and fight or run away. Some students choose to run away from anything perceived as difficult (math) or frightening (new). They are afraid of looking stupid in front of their peers or disappointing their teachers and/or parents, so they’d rather not try at all.

Another troubled student is the one with the cocky or arrogant manner, the one who says, “I’m not going to learn and you can’t make me!”  He may think he has his life figured out and doesn’t want to hear any other ideas. Or he may have been so hurt by someone or some experience that he doesn’t want to risk being vulnerable again. He may be hiding a terrible secret, like the fact that he can’t see, hear, read. Or he may be like Shawn, a student I encountered a few years ago. His mother was a principal, so Shawn thought he was above reproach.  There are as many reasons for an arrogant manner as there are children, so it is often the most difficult attitude to change.

These are just a few examples of students with lots of potential, but their attitude is preventing them from being successful students. I could have talked about Henry, who thinks his beautiful singing voice will bring him so much fame and fortune that he won’t need “all this school stuff”. Or Jake, whose mind has turned his minor disability into an insurmountable obstacle to success. There are literally thousands of children who enter school each day ready to fail because of their attitude toward school, life, parents, and themselves.

The Bible warns us that “as he thinketh in his heart, so is he” (Prov. 23:7).

The mind(heart) is the power behind everything we say and do. And in Ecclesiastes 10:9 we are told “whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might”. I think these two verses, and many others, let us know that our attitude- the way our mind (heart) thinks about something- is more important than just the fact that we do it. I wish I could convey that to all of my students. I wish you would help me by teaching the children who are in your life that attitude is the key to success in school, and in life.

Spring Fever

It’s officially spring. I don’t care what the calendar says. I don’t care if the scientists have declared the date to be several weeks away. I’m already in a spring mood- there’s no turning back now!  Gary and I went to Lowe’s Saturday and watched the guys unloading plants. We browsed through the bird feeders and checked out the grills. We read the tags on the fruit trees and contemplated adding to our little orchard. We didn’t buy anything, but I’m counting the days until spring break when I’ll have time to work in the garden. Several people I know have already plowed their gardens and planted onions and cabbage. A few brave souls will no doubt have tomatoes out in a few weeks and will stay busy protecting them from the last couple of freezes. I’m not that dedicated to having an early tomato crop! I’m content to buy mine from the store for a while. I probably won’t plant any until April or even May.

I picked a bouquet of daffodils from the yard today! There are dozens blooming now, so I don’t feel guilty about removing a few of them and placing them in a vase for my kitchen. They look so cheerful and they smell nice, too. There were also daffodils blooming at church today. I drove through town and checked the flowerbeds in front of the DQ and the theater. Both are showing lots of green, but only one little blossom so far. Gardeners have to learn patience.

I also know it’s spring because I’ve been in a crabby mood lately. I’m tired of being cold. I’m tired of being in the house with the windows closed. I’m tired of being sick. I need it to be spring! I need to clean my windows and wash curtains and clear the cobwebs of winter. I need color and fresh air and hope. Spring gives us all those things. Spring is a “new beginning” far more powerful than any January 1^st can produce.

Of course if it’s spring that also means school is almost over. Spring break is the 13^th of March. Then it will be time for the circus to leave. Then Easter and an endless array of “end of the year” activities.  Time to get these little kindergartners ready to face the rigors of first grade! Time for tests, tests, and more tests to make sure they have been listening to me all winter. Time for intense individual tutoring for some. And less time for me to accomplish everything I’ve planned.  I swear that after March 1^st time actually speeds up!

It's spring in my heart, but still too early for pictures from the yard, so I’ll leave you with one from last year. I hope this year will be just as beautiful!

Family Ties

I like to dabble a bit in genealogy. I find history interesting and our family history fascinating. I’ve been doing research on both sides of the family for years. I get enthused about a particular ancestor and spend weeks tracking down information. Then I get sidetracked by real life and don’t even think about my ancestors for weeks or months. I guess I wasn’t endowed with generous amounts of motivation. But it’s a nice hobby that’s still waiting when I get around to it. Dead people don’t go anywhere! So I add bits and pieces to the puzzle of my past when I find the time.

The internet has helped immensely! I used to spend hours perusing the books and journals and microfilms at the genealogy library for the tiniest scraps of information. Now I have access to census data, marriage licenses, wills, and other family research in the comfort of my home. It might take me just as long to find something, but that’s usually because of missing dates or names.

This week I’ve been concentrating on my great-grandmother, Mary Lettie (Coker) Banta. I found her family listed in the 1880 census. The census information includes occupations, birthplace of parents, ages of all household members, etc. Her family group included her parents, Joseph and Margaret, and her twin sister Martha, and brothers, Ambrose and Joseph. Joseph Sr. was a farmer and young Ambrose worked in the brick yard (along with several other boys and men on the census rolls). Other citizens were listed as “hirelings”, “servants”, “shopkeepers”. And you could list yourself or family member as “deaf, blind, idiotic, or insane”. I wonder what the difference was between idiotic and insane? LOL

           In the Texas Marriages I found entries for Mary and Martha in 1886. They each married a Banta brother. Martha and Henry married in April. Mary and Calvin married in December. The girls were fourteen!

           By 1920 Mary was in Oklahoma with her husband and family, including my grandmother Della. The census page for them is particularly interesting because the enumerator was great-grandpa, Calvin Banta. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed except that I was rechecking the date of the entries. So now I not only have the listing for their family, but the entire page is written in grandpa’s handwriting!

Speaking of handwriting…boy has it changed. You need an interpreter to read some early handwriting. I actually did have to write to the county clerk and ask for a “translation” of my great-great-grandparent’s marriage certificate. I not only couldn’t read most of the handwriting, but couldn’t understand what I could read. Here is a portion: “Both of the county and state of aforesaid and of the lawful age and you are hereby commanded to make return of this license within sixty days, with your certificate then, or how you have executed the same.”  Huh? I hope they understood it!

So this is one of the little things I like to do when I have time. Most of our family can be traced back to the 1500’s. There are gaps here and there- dates missing, people not identified completely. Those are the puzzle pieces needed to complete the picture. But for the most part my research keeps matching up with the research of others. I find someone who has an old Bible entry or a birth certificate or marriage license or photo that no one on this side of the family has seen. I copy it and include it in my notebook. I share what I can with others who are researching their family. I keep dabbling…

Happy Birthday...

to me! I suppose it isn’t “officially” my birthday until this afternoon. I was born on February 20, 1950, at 3:20pm in the Dearborn Hospital in Madera, California. And I was the “local attraction” for a day or two. At a little over eleven pounds I was “that big baby” everyone wanted to see. Perhaps that’s why I’ve always felt a sense of being in the spotlight. The position of first child, first grandchild, only daughter carries some expectations and responsibilities. I’m not sure I’ve always lived up to them. But I have few regrets.

I’m really a “grownup” now. As a child I always thought that becoming a grownup would be a magical transformation that would endow me with the power to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I remember how frustrated I was once when Dad wouldn’t let me watch what I wanted on grandmother’s fascinating new television. Gran said, “Don’t worry. When you grow up you’ll have your own television. If your Dad even touches the knobs you can slap his hand.” Strange thing to tell a child, but I was appeased for a while. That’s how it always was with the problems of childhood. “When you grow up…” was the standard solution, and so I waited for that magical day when all of my problems would be solved. Still waiting. LOL

There won’t be a big celebration for my birthday. I’m still sick so I’ll be doing some of my celebrating at the doctor’s office today. Probably settle for pizza and a movie at home tonight. I don’t think the actual method of celebrating is as important  as the accomplishment of surviving another 365 days! It’s a tough world out there! Besides, I’ve had lots of celebrations over the years. I remember the only real birthday party my mom ever gave us (my brother’s birthday is tomorrow). One year she decided to combine our birthdays into one party. Now think about this for a minute. We’re different genders, four years apart, and we lived within walking distance of the school. That has disaster written all over it! And it was. Too many kids, too little food, and lots of mayhem. After that we had quiet family celebrations.

My grandmother used to make all of us elaborate birthday cakes. I remember pirate ships and cars and layers cakes with flowers. One year she made a cake for me with a doll in the center. The cake was the doll’s “dress”. It was so beautiful! The next day I took the doll to school for show and tell. On the way home a boy took it away from me and threw it under a house. I was devastated. I remember going to the principal with my mom and explaining what happened. The boy got whipped, but I never got my doll back.

I don’t remember very many birthday presents. I think it’s quite common that we don’t remember things as much as we remember events. I recall several other birthday dinners and cakes and celebrations with friends. It’s the experiences that are at the heart of our traditions, not the gifts we give or get. At 56 I’ve had a lot of experiences, and the good far outweigh the bad. I’m sure there are lots more ahead. I’ll take what I get, try to make good choices and live each day to the fullest. It’s not so bad being a grownup. Sometimes you do get to do whatever you want, whenever you want. I have my own television now, and when my dad visits I hide the remote!

Valentine's Day

Okay, so I’m going to be 56 next week and I’m still capable of doing something so stupid that I’m still shaking my head over it. I plead temporary insanity caused by a lack of oxygen to my brain! At least I’m being honest enough to admit it.

Friday was a great day! It was the one-year anniversary of my surgery and I felt wonderful. No pain. No limp. Reminded everyone I encountered that last year I was on the surgeon’s table. ‘Course I did notice that we had a bit of a problem at school. The nurse’s office kept filling up and she kept sending student’s home. Lots of fever, coughing, rashes, sore throats. Several of my students joined the homeward bound. By Friday afternoon my throat was a bit sore.

Saturday I felt bad, but I had lots of things to do. Can’t stop for a headache and sore throat!

Sunday I felt terrible. Had a fever, headache, congestion, burning throat. Stayed home from church and I really don’t remember much except being sick.

Monday…

Monday is when the whole oxygen deprivation took over, because I went to school. Yes, I got in my car and drove 57 miles to work. One of my colleagues looked at me and asked “Why in the world are you here?” I couldn’t think of an answer. In my own defense I don’t think I really felt all that bad when I got up. And I don’t have one of those “no one else can do it” attitudes about teaching my class. I mean last year I was out for eight weeks and my class survived. Looking back on Monday,  I think I was just in total disbelief that I could possibly be seriously sick again.  I’m hardly ever sick. Broken, busted, sprained, twisted, hurt, cut, injured, yes, YES. But sick…not really. Hardly ever. And I usually bounce back in a day or two at most. And I was just sick a few weeks ago. Gary and I were both sick. Also unusual. Now we were both sick again. And that my friends should have been my first clue. According to our doctor if you are sick, well, and then sick again in a matter of weeks, it is NOT a good sign.

Anyway, I spent the day whispering to my students while holding my head upright. They were actually quite understanding and well behaved. By the afternoon I had a fever again and I was chastising myself for not taking care of myself.  I’m not sure how I managed to drive home, but I’m thankful that God helps the weak and the stupid, because I was both. On the way home my nose started bleeding and that was a bit startling.

As soon as I walked in the door I called my doctor and made an appointment for the next morning. Everything after that is a painful blur.

The next morning I felt better and I wondered for a moment…a moment…why I’d been in such a panic to call the doctor. Before he left for work Gary asked me to make an appointment for him for the next day. Okay, here’s where it gets really stupid. Funny, but stupid. I pull into the clinic parking lot two hours later and think briefly that the silver Mustang in the next space looks an awful lot like ours. Then I go to the reception desk and S. asks me if I’m looking for Gary. “No,” I reply, “I’m just here for my appointment.” Okay. So I’m in the first exam room, hooked up to the BP machine and Gary pops his head in the door. “What are you doing here?” I ask. Well, duh… He felt sick enough to stop by the office and ask them to “squeeze him in”. So we both spent most of Valentine’s Day at the doctor’s office. We must have looked pitiful because despite a little good-natured teasing about being there because of “excessive lip-locking” everyone was very, very kind, even the nurse who had to duck my quick fist when she tried to swab my throat a third time. Purely reflex I swear! I didn’t lay a hand on the one who poked my finger or even the one who swabbed my nose. Our doctor felt so sorry for us as we waited for all the lab results that he went up to the front desk and found us some heart shaped cookies! ‘Course my throat was so sore I had to decline, but he meant well. LOL

After all the tests came back it was determined that we have a nasty little virus. Lots of those around. We just had to pick a tough one. Apparently we could have easily spent time in matching hospital gowns. But we’re on the mend now. My head is clearing enough to write this. (It took me five tries to type the previous “sick” entry.) I’ve been without fever for several hours. Gary has stopped coughing every five minutes. No headaches for either of us. As a postscript though, don’t believe everything you read on a prescription label. Ours said “may cause drowsiness”. Gary slept like a baby. I was up until 2am watching TV!

Okay, what have we learned from this? Take care of yourself. Get to a doctor if you are sick. Get their faster if you’ve had the sick, well, sick scenario. Don’t be stupid!

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Sick, again...

so very sick. Will post again after a trip to the doctor and some medication.

Music

My daughter mentioned in her blog that she is going to see a Rob Thomas concert. “Who in the world is Rob Thomas?” I asked. “He used to be the lead singer for Matchbox Twenty before he went solo,” she replied. Oh, yeah. Right. Now if I knew who or what “Matchbox Twenty” was I wouldn’t feel absolutely clueless!

            It’s a reality of life that music has long been the dividing factor between youth and old age, between “in” and “out”, “stylish” and “old-fashioned” . Forget about wrinkles or gray hair or comfortable shoes giving away your age. If half the people mentioned at the Grammy’s tonight are “strangers” to you, you’re old! Nothing else seems to keep pace with the rapid changes in our culture like music does. And judging from the first five minutes of the show, most of the changes aren’t good. I couldn’t even sit and watch it! What a disgusting demonstration of how “tolerant” our society has become. There was a time when that kind of trash wouldn’t have even been on television.

But, I digress. I didn’t intend to write about some of the technological wizardry that passes for music these days. We still have some great singers and they deserve recognition! I started out thinking about how music has impacted my own life. I love music!

One of my earliest memories is of my mother sitting on the edge of my bed singing some quiet little song about a “blue-eyed cowboy”. Later, after the arrival of my brother, she sang “two little babes, a boy and a girl, got lost in the woods one day…”. A depressing song that I still can’t quite forget. It’s sad, but I can’t remember my mom doing much singing after that. She probably just got too busy chasing the two of us!

My dad and I used to sit in the car and listen to music on the radio. ‘Course I think we only listened while we were waiting for “Gunsmoke” to start, but at least I enjoyed a little more music. And Dad loved to listen to Brenda Lee!

When I was nine or ten, my grandparents owned a bar and grill. My dad worked for them sometimes in the evening and I went with him. I’d beg to sit at the end of the bar near the jukebox. Most of the time the customers were local people and they gave me nickels so I could play “North to Alaska” and “The Battle of New Orleans”. It was during that time that my parents bought me a small record player for Christmas and the jukebox man gave Dad a stack of old records for me.

Remember Mitch Miller? I owe that man a debt of gratitude for all those late nights I spent sitting up learning song lyrics. Who can ever forget that smile? He made music fun.

When I moved to Caddo as a teenager, one of the local girls cornered me right away and wanted to know if I was a Beatles fan. I had to confess that I wasn’t really. I didn’t have the time or energy to be a “fan” of anyone. Between school work and farm work there wasn’t time for a lot of music. I had seen them on the Ed Sullivan show, but they were just another group to me.

Church music always fascinated me because my mother raised me in  the Church of Christ (no instruments), but allowed my grandmother to occasionally take me to the Baptist Church (piano and an organ). My mother sang in church, but my grandmother never did. She always said she couldn’t “carry a tune in a bucket”. The contrast was good for me. I learned to sing a cappella and read music in my home church. I learned to appreciate the skilled musicians in my grandmother’s church.

I sang a lot during my high school years. I was in the chorus and a couple of groups and I sang a few solos. I tried piano lessons, but I wasn’t very good, or very dedicated. I tried guitar lessons, but I wasn’t able to get past the sore fingers. So I just kept singing. I remember a group of us performing “These Boots Were Made for Walking” for the annual hootenanny. I’m so glad no one had a video camera!

It’s funny how a topic like music can trigger specific memories from the past. When I started thinking about this I remembered exactly where I was and what I was doing the moment I heard Roberta Flack sing “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face”. I was working at a small advertising agency in California. One of the artists said, “Hey listen to this!” and six of us gathered around her drafting table. The music was haunting and mesmerizing. I’d never heard anyone sing like that before.

Music speaks to our soul. I remember driving to town the day after Mom died. Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel” was playing on the radio. I turned it off and started crying. It was over a year before I could stand to hear that song. It just triggered something so painful that I couldn’t bear to let it inside my heart.  Now when it plays on the radio I sing along.

My husband introduced me to jazz. I had grown up with country music, heard rock on the radio, discovered folk music at work, and been exposed to classical music in school. Somehow, I’d never heard much jazz except for Louie Armstrong. Marrying a jazz fanatic changed that! But Gary has also become a George Strait fan, so we’ve affected each other. Now we enjoy all kinds of music. I’ve learned to appreciate most of it. I hate the fact that so many of the new musicians use pornographic videos to promote their work, but I don’t watch them. Country music has always been about booze and sex and grief. I suppose we sing about the things that hurt the most. How can you argue with lyrics like “Jesus loves you, I don’t”, or “Tequila makes her clothes fall off”? Music is about the good, the bad, and the ugly. Just like life.

I suppose I’ll go back and watch the show for a minute. I think I hear someone actually singing!

Fundamentals of Reading

Each spring I watch as about one-third of my students learn to read. It isn’t necessary for them to read by the end of kindergarten, but it’s a natural progression if they have been listening and working in class and they have strong support at home. Educators and researchers agree that families can positively influence reading development in three ways: by providing a print-rich environment, by modeling reading purposes, and by providing positive support and interaction. You didn’t ask for a “reading lesson”, but I’m going to give you one anyway. My hope is that if you have children or grandchildren you will help them become confident readers.

First, Read! This seems obvious, and parents often protest that they do read to their children, at least once a week, or even daily. However, in order to develop your child’s desire to read, you must model, or demonstrate, independent reading. Your child needs to see you reading for your own enlightenment, enjoyment and enrichment. Why do children learn to talk on the phone and watch television and play games? They see us doing those things and enjoying them! They need to see us reading. Let your child see you reading instructions, labels, advertisements, lists, the newspaper, magazines, and books. Explain what you are reading and why.

           There are also two key factors to remember when reading to your child- timing and frequency. Don’t wait until your child is a year old before you start reading books. It’s never too early to start! I read to my babies as I nursed them. Sometimes I read children’s books. Sometimes I read the newspaper or a poem or the Bible. The reading material isn’t as important as the fact that the child is hearing the sound of written language and sees you holding a book. And when you read a book aloud, read it slowly and enjoy it!

            For maximum benefit, reading must be done daily. However, the good news is that you can read ANYTHING. Road signs, advertisements, labels, cereal boxes, newspapers, magazines, comics, and games all contain words. The first word I remember reading was “Chevrolet”. It was on a billboard we passed often and my father read it to me even though I was just a toddler. The value of this concept is that your child understands that the words around us make sense and serve a purpose. Reading environmental print to your child should become natural and automatic.

Second, teach your child letter recognition. As you see words and letters, point them out. Say them clearly. Help your child make connections with comments like, “That says sale. It starts with the same letter as your name- S. Samuel starts with S. Sale starts with S. “

The “alphabet song” is a cute trick we’ve all learned, but young children don’t understand it anymore than they understand the pledge of allegiance. They’ve simply memorized the sounds. That’s why it’s so difficult for a child who has memorized the alphabet song to actually recite the alphabet. When they get to “elemenopee” they don’t know what they’ve said. It’s best to just learn to recognize the alphabet and say the letters in order. The song can be learned later, for fun, when your child understands what he/she is actually saying.

Next, help your child develop phonemic awareness. Don’t be frightened by the sound of that. Sound is actually what it’s all about. Your child needs to understand that speech is composed of individual sounds and that those sounds can be manipulated. Play word games. Let your child hear similar words like hop, mop, lop, top. Show your child how to change letters to make new words out of familiar ones- pot becomes dot, lot, not, hot, cot, go, or rot, by changing one letter.  Make up rhymes, work puzzles, sing silly songs. And remember, you can help your child understand sounds by pronouncing words distinctly. For instance, say the phrases “I scream” and “ice cream”. Your child should be able to hear the distinction in sounds.

Encourage conversation. Ask questions that require more than “yes” or “no” answers. Listen to your child’s answer. Encourage your child to think. When you’re reading a story, stop and ask “What do you think will happen next?” At the end of the story ask “why?” or “what happened?” questions. Let your child dictate his or her own stories and write them down.

Use your local library and build your own library at home.  Most libraries allow children as young as three to have their own library card. Let your child check out books on a regular basis. This encourages reading and responsibility.

Begin acquiring books when your child is born. Start with a “library” of five books and try to add a book or children’s magazine each month for the rest of your child’s life. Books don’t have to be expensive. You can buy used books and paperback books. Watch for yard sales, and contact your local school about book clubs. You can buy quality children’s literature for as little as 50 cents a book through national book clubs such as Scholastic SeeSaw, Trumpet Club, and Troll.

Finally, turn off the television. Give your child some individual attention. Encourage drawing, writing, and hobbies. Hobbies spark further interest in reading. For example, if your child is interested in baseball, he/she can read about the history of the game, players, how the field is prepared, how sports cards are printed, etc. Children also gain valuable skills when they learn to read instructions and how-to books.

You are your child’s first teacher. You don’t have to have an education degree to start them on the road to reading success!

An Ordinary Life

            I lead an ordinary life. I go to work. I take care of my home. I go to church. I have a few hobbies. I do a little community service.  This weekend was a “typical weekend” for us. Saturday morning we slept late- 7am- did a few household chores and went downtown to get the mail and visit with our friends at Craighead’s for a few minutes. We drove to Colbert to look for a nursery someone had recommended. We went to Lowe’s in Durant and bought pansies and alyssum for the downtown flower bed. Then we had lunch at a local Mexican restaurant, did our weekly shopping at WalMart, went home to unload the groceries, then drove back to Caddo to plant the flowers. Back home to finish the laundry and housecleaning. Then back to Caddo to see King Kong at the REX II. This morning I taught Sunday School (substitute teacher) and sang a solo in church. We had lunch at home with our son, Robert, who was visiting from Fort Worth, then went downtown at 2pm to help with “Clean Sweep Sunday”, then home at 4pm to visit with Robert some more. I’ll finish some paper grading and a writing project before eating dinner, watching a little television and going to bed early. Sometimes we go to evening service at church, but tonight I’m too tired. 

            I share this minutia, that may seem exceedingly boring to some, because I am so incredibly grateful to have an ordinary life. Good friends, good times. A great marriage. An abiding faith in God. These are the things that get me through my days. I’m at a place in my life where I have a little harmony and I’m enjoying it! I write this with the hope that in future stressful times I’ll remember this time of peace. My grandmother used to remind me during a crisis, “this too shall pass”. Sometimes only the extreme highs and lows of our life are memorable. We forget the “ordinary days” that fortunately, joyfully come between the highs and lows.

            I’ve had my share of highs and lows. I’m sure more lie ahead. But this past week I’ve been especially grateful for this quiet chapter of my life because of some events that have unfolded in the lives of my family and friends and co-workers. Several are struggling with health and family and financial problems. Maybe that’s all part of God’s plan. If we were all in stressful, painful phases of our lives at the same time, we wouldn’t be of any help to each other. While I’m calm and grateful and at peace I can be of service to others and give them sympathy and hope. When I’m in the middle of my own low times or even some of my joyous highs, I’m much more self-centered and less apt to think of others.

            I think of others more than I used to. It’s fascinating to be fifty+ because I finally feel that I’m becoming the person God meant me to be. There were a lot of years when I felt I was living someone else’s life or at least living up to someone else’s expectations. Now I’m beginning, beginning, to feel comfortable enough with my own identity and my place in life to feel that I have something worth contributing to others. I remember when I was in the eighth grade I thought that the only worthy goal in life was to “be famous”. I’m not sure how I planned to be famous- I think it changed weekly- but I somehow had the idea that only people in the news made a contribution to the world. Now when I look back on my own life and the people who have made the greatest impact on me, I realize that not one of them was a “famous” person. They were just ordinary people, living ordinary lives, who cared enough about me to share their wisdom and their understanding and their joy. Now I want to be one of those ordinary people.

            There are people in our church who are much older than I am. I’m sure many of them feel their lives are not only ordinary but boring. They see their time here coming to an end and perhaps feel they serve less purpose in our church or our community. They no longer have jobs. They aren’t active in community organizations. They don’t hold leadership positions. But I listen and I watch. They have a great love and concern for others. They know who is sick and hurting. They care. They understand. They visit. They pray. They help. And they bring joy to my life each and every Sunday. One of the older men in our church told me the song I sang this morning was one of his favorites. A woman thanked me and kissed my cheek. Another just smiled and patted my hand.  I’m still like a little child in their presence, but I no longer seek their approval, I simply bask in their love. It’s a wonderful feeling. I’m not sure a famous person would have the time or energy to understand. An ordinary life can be such a blessing! I thank God for mine.