Today was my father and mother's special day. On a hot Wednesday morning back in 1940, two kids named John and Lois decided to get married much to the chagrin of my mom's parents. I've heard the story a thousand times over it seems and each year when July 31st rolls around, I remember those two special people and the somewhat brave and the other part crazy decision they made.
All because a beautiful girl became smitten with a young boy who asked for a drink of water on a hot summer's day while he worked in her father's wheat fields.
All because two people fell in love with each other.
I can't remember when I first heard the story. Perhaps it was when I asked my mother one day if I could have some strawberry pop to drink. It might have been when I wanted to do something but was afraid to try. Shoot, I guess it maybe could have been when I did something I shouldn't have and had to fess up to it in the end.
No matter how I learned about it, I never forgot the story.
In the early morning hours, the young girl who would some day become my mother, waited in the darkness of her bedroom on the family farm in the sand hills of rural Harvey County, Kansas. A small packed bag was on her bed and her eyes were on the road, waiting patiently for the 17-year old boy she loved to come and take her away. They were running away, eloping with one another because that was the only way they could see to get married to one another. My grandparents had told their 19-year old daughter, "no way" and had refused to give their permission for a wedding between the two to happen.
It didn't matter.
They were going to do it regardless.
My father, a young man of 17 years, was underage to legally get married in Kansas. He needed his parent's permission in order for that to happen. His kind mother, the woman who would end up becoming my Grandma Scott, gave her signature as well as her blessing. Without it, the day would have been even more difficult.
I'm not sure why they went to the courthouse in Wichita, Kansas. It was a journey definitely farther away than the much closer courthouse in Newton. Funny, I've wondered about that all these years. Now I get the feeling that maybe they were worried my grandparents would wake up and find my mother's note to tell them what they were doing. Newton would be just up the road a ways and they could possibly have tried to stop them. Who knows? It would seem to make for great story telling in the generations that would come after them.
Generations like mine and those of my children. Hey, even now my grandchildren.
So there they were at noontime, sitting on the steps of the Sedgwick County Courthouse as a legally married couple. It was hot that Wednesday, not unlike the day we will all be experiencing here in this part of the country. With probably all the money my father had left in his pocket that day, they went to the pop machine and bought a cold bottle of strawberry pop to share between them. I can imagine what it felt like to be passing it back and forth between the two of them as they wondered what to do next. In the end, when the last sip of the refreshing beverage was taken, they did the only thing two young people in love and now married could do.
They went home.
Mom never did say much about what happened next when they got back. It doesn't matter. They lived in lean times for awhile but they were both very good with the practice of "making do" with what they had. In the years to come, 7 children would be born to them and they would do their best to raise them up in the way that they should go. Their marriage held firm for 42 years before my father succumbed to lung cancer at the age of 59. My mother would live many years more, passing away in 2007 at the age of 87 from kidney failure.
I am older now. I have already lived nearly 3 years longer than my father and if I make it another 25 years, then I shall catch up to where my mother was. In the world out there, I qualify for a senior discount in many places. My body is still strong but slower and I suppose that is normal according to the place in time that I am in right now. There are wrinkles on my face and streaks of gray within my hair. No matter what though, one thing is most certainly true.
I will always be their little girl.
This was a part of a paper 9-square quilt that I made for my mom on the very last Mother's Day she had in 2007. I didn't know what else to do for her and decided to put together a paper quilt of the important things of her life.
On the night that she passed away, I told my mom to keep looking for the young boy that she saw in her quilt. I said it was time to find him once again and that he'd be there to meet her when she made it to the other side. Happy anniversary in Heaven you two kids. I love you both and miss you even still.
I never grow tired of setting up a new classroom, no matter where it has been in this great land of ours. Once, for a very long time, it was in the south central part of Kansas in a place I had called my "home" forever and a long day. Then it was in the Rocky Mountains of southwestern Colorado in a school that ended up saving me from feeling homesick, loneliness and despair. Still yet it was in a little town called Petrolia, Texas where the folks were kind, good, and drank a whole lot of sweet tea. Last year it was in a little community called Randlett, Oklahoma in a school that reminded me of the school I used to attend as a kid back home in Kansas.
This year things have changed.
I've spent the past nearly 3 weeks moving my belongings into my second grade classroom in a different school than I was last year. I have unpacked my boxes, cleaned out cupboards and closets, rearranged things to better suit my needs, and wondered about just what this year would bring. What will these little ones be like, from a town not all that far from our home here in Burkburnett? Time will tell.
Soon I will know.
Even though it becomes a little bit harder each year to climb a ladder, push desks around, or tote a heavy box, I still am young in spirit and heart. I love what I am doing and amazed yet that I could possibly be starting my 40th year in education. I never looked for it to be that way. In the beginning, I was sure that 25 years would be a plenty and if I made it to 30 well then that would be pretty miraculous. Here I am now looking square in the eyes of 4 decades and I wonder how many more years I'd like to try this.
A whole lot of other people are wondering the same thing too.
After 32 years in education in Kansas, I retired in May of 2010. It took me all of 3 months to be ready to return to the classroom once again. Plain and simple, I quit too soon. Retirement looked interesting and lucrative enough but it really wasn't for me. The 7 years that have passed have allowed me a second chance of sorts, to finish what I had not yet completed. Little did I know, there were plenty of children out there who were waiting for a teacher just like me to come along.
How glad I am that I was there for them.
In Olathe, Colorado there were two classes. One of fourth graders the first year and the other of first graders in my second year. I always said that I felt God sent me there to help them all but a couple of them in particular. Without going into names, I found those special kids within the first days of being their teacher. I loved them all and hold a special place deep in my heart for each of them. In Petrolia, Texas I served one year as an English/Language Arts teacher for students in grades 4-6. Once again, I felt compelled to go there and to find out just who it was that needed me for that year. I found several children and for that, I feel most grateful. Last year I entered into the state of Oklahoma to teach at a small school just up the way on I-44 called Big Pasture. A class of 3rd graders needed someone to teach them and amazing as it always turns out, I learned just who needed me to join them as well. In each of those situations, I have been more than blessed. Little did any of those kids or families know, but I needed them all even far more than they needed me.
I hope that I served them well.
I don't know what lies ahead but in 3 weeks time, I will soon be fixing to find out. As I was completing the arrangement of our classroom today, I couldn't help but to hear their voices. I could almost imagine what they might tell me or how they might sound. I smiled at the thought of having one more chance to make a difference somewhere. That's what I will be trying to do.
Make a difference.
I used to say that if I could make it to 40 years as an educator, then that would be enough for me. Now I am looking at it in a different light. I hope and pray that the good Lord will see fit for me to stay longer and perhaps teach several more years. At nearly age 62, I feel pretty healthy and have no serious medical issues going on. (Pardon me while I knock on wood for a moment.) I am motivated to be a part of this thing called "school" and I still look forward to each day that comes my way. There is still so much of that thing called "teacher" in me and I figure what a waste it would be to stop now.
We shall see.
For whatever time remains for me on this place called "Earth", I hope that I can continue to be a voice and an advocate for children everywhere. It has been my pleasure and my reward for such a long time.
So hey.
Why quit now?
The room is ready and now all I need is the children.
This group of ESL kids were to be my last ones ever to teach. Funny how things work out.
OK~So the summer of 2017 won't be remembered as my best summer ever, but it also doesn't have to be considered the worst one either. It's kind of in how you look at things I suppose. I'm trying to keep everything in perspective and when it all comes down to it, that's all a guy can do.
Keep things in perspective.
I'm sure grateful for the good things that have been mine this summer during the hot and dry days along the Red River here in northern Texas. There have been a bunch of blessings that have been shown to me, even in the sorrow of losing my older sister now nearly 3 weeks ago. I got to thinking about that today and it was good for me to be reminded of it.
Sometimes we forget, especially when we are still hurting from the loss of a loved one, that there is plenty of good in life. We just have to look for it at times. I've been doing much searching and reflecting in the days that have gone by. I smile and my heart feels good to know just what has been given to me.
I've been blessed with the gift of a new job just up the road a ways at a small rural school in Oklahoma. I'm returning back to the grade level that I've actually spent the most time in during the 4 decades now that I have been a teacher. You will find my name on the second grade door and if you peek inside while we are there, you will see one happy teacher and hopefully, many happy students too. God provided the gift of my 40th year of being in the classroom, an attainment that I've been praying to receive many years now.
So far this summer, Mike and I have been fortunate to have reasonably good health. Neither of us have to worry about not having medical insurance, even though sometimes it seems like it takes that proverbial "arm and a leg" to pay for it. If we do get sick or need a doctor's attention, the nearest physician and hospital are only moments away. Our medicine chest is stocked and shoot, we even have plenty of bandaids for those incidents that render us in need of one. I'd say we are doing ok.
There is food in the cupboard, toilet paper on the roll, running water, clean clothes in our closets, and gas in both cars. We may not have everything we want, but we most surely have everything that we need. When it all comes down to it, one thing is probably for sure.
What more could we ask for?
Not much.
The summer of 2017 will not be the best one I've ever had. I refuse to let it be the worst one either.
The days on the calendar reflect slightly more than one month remaining before back to school time arrives for us here on this part of the plains in northern Texas and southern Oklahoma. With each year that passes by, I have felt the days of summer vanish into thin air more quickly than ever before.
The summer of 2017 shall prove to be no different.
Things got off to a not so good start and the month of June came and went. Those days will not return so it's imperative to use the remainder of summertime vacation to the best of my ability. I'm already thinking about what I will do this year at my new school, and wondering about the little children who shall be a part of our classroom.
Time will tell. Soon we will meet one another and begin a year together as one classroom community. I can't wait to get started. Really. I can't wait.
Each year that has passed by since my original retirement from teaching in 2010, I have committed myself to the same philosophy. I have taught each year as if it was the very last one I would ever be allowed to teach. I have tried my best to not waste a moment of time and to cherish each minute that I was given to be with children. The 2017-2018 school term shall be no different. I will enter this year as if this was the very last one I would ever get to teach. In the end, perhaps that's the way that all teachers should look at things.
Just a thought.
For what it is worth~
While I was in the Puget Sound last week, I picked up some special rocks for the community rock jar that our classroom will use. It's kind of a tradition of sorts, one that was begun back in 2013 in Olathe, Colorado with some of the greatest kids a teacher could ever hope for. It carried on in Petrolia, Texas two years ago and yet again last year at Big Pasture Elementary in Randlett, Oklahoma. The students in my classroom at Grandfield will also have a community rock jar and participate in the four-year old ritual of placing a rock into the glass jar and telling their name as well as something they are good at that has nothing at all to do with school. They will be reminded to be careful as they place the rock inside the jar so that it doesn't break. We liken the rocks to ourselves and that we wish for no one's feelings to be hurt by breaking the glass. It's a silly thing perhaps to some but to the kids in our classroom community, it's the way we set ourselves up to treat one another for the entire school year. It's always been my hope that it lays out a pattern for treating everyone they come across, not just at school and not just for that year.
It works pretty well that way, you know?
In this the summer before my 40th year of being a teacher, I have much on my mind. My mentor and dear older sister is now gone, yet I still feel Sherry's spirit about me as I plan for the year ahead. I have tried so hard to emulate her over the years but her shoes were big ones to fill and at best, I can only hope to be half the teacher and human being that she was.
There is much yet to learn and find out about for me as an educator. I guess you'd think that after this long in the classroom, a teacher would know everything there was to know. Yet I can tell you for sure that only a foolish teacher would ever subscribe to that way of thinking. There's learning aplenty for me and as an avowed lifelong learner, it suits me just fine.
Sometimes the future can be a little scary and the unknown that lies ahead can make a person wonder whether or not everything will even work out. I've felt that way sometimes and perhaps you have as well. This year shall be no exception, but you know what? I go forward in faith, following the lead of the One who knows way more about this kind of stuff than I would ever dream to know.
The end result is better that way.
3 weeks have gone by since Sherry left. I hope I paid enough attention to what she told me to do in order to have a successful year. After 40 years, this is my first year solo! I'm going to be just fine. She told me that I would be!
I absolutely love these rocks that I picked up along the shoreline of the Puget Sound waters last week. They are strikingly beautiful!
Sherry taught me a new way to teach the kids in my 4th grade class at Olathe in 2013-14 a new way to do long division. She always had a good idea!
In this the summer before my 62nd year, I have been paid a visit once again by the little 9-year old girl who lives within me. From time to time she whispers in my ear, and the message is perpetually the same. They are words that always come through loud and clear.
"Please, may we have some fun today Peggy?"
And so we do.
Last week while visiting my son and his family, I watched in wonder as my little granddaughter flew a kite. It was a wind plentiful kind of day, one in which her beautiful multi-colored kite took quickly to the skies of the Pacific Northwest. I have absolutely no remembrances of flying one as a kid and certainly none as a grownup either. It looked fun!
So before we had lunch, I too went over and took my turn at it. For the next 10 minutes or so, I also stood in amazement that this wonderful piece of canvas cloth was flying high above me. It would have been interesting to have taken my blood pressure at that very moment in time. I am going to bet that it was normal. Shoot, maybe it was even better than normal.
I have always been one to take life much too seriously, a character trait that hasn't always worked out too well for me. For pretty much my entire life, my desire has always been to help others, making sure that absolutely everything is ok for them. I have sat and fretted over problems that I had absolutely zero control over. I have been anxious about life turning out just perfect for all concerned. I have put having fun at the very bottom of my to do list, so much so that I now sadly realize just how many years have gone by that I can no longer get back.
And so I have begun.
Little by little, I have tried to find some enjoyment for myself each and every day.
Sometimes I find it and sometimes I don't.
But at least I now try.
I'm no longer a spring chicken but I don't feel like I'm an old stew hen ready for the boiling pot either. I hope to have many good years that remain for me yet in this lifetime of mine. The days ahead will go fast enough without my even knowing it and that's why it seems so important to me that I live my life accordingly.
There's not a moment to waste for me and the truth of the matter is this.
There's not a moment ahead to waste for you either.
About 3 weeks ago I was visiting with my sister in the days before she passed away. We were talking about what we liked to do as kids growing up on the farm. I was so surprised to hear her say that she remembered I used to like to walk through dried up autumn leaves. She reminded me that I loved to hear the crunchy racket that they made each time my 9-year old foot would stomp them down. We smiled at that memory, one that was stored deep within our old brains and forever etched upon our hearts.
My sister is gone now and our dream to have fun growing old together here in this part of the world has gone with her. But if she were here right now, standing alongside me as I travel through the miles left here for me on earth, I'm just about positive of the message that she would deliver to me as well.
"Continue to have fun my little sister, even without me."
And you know what?
I think I will do just that.
the 9-year old that I live with here along the Red River
