I awoke to an orchestra

Pin It The flash of light ignited against the other side of my closed eyelids; that’s probably what awoke me from a restful slumber. The low, guttural tones of thunder followed only moments behind it, chased by the rain. The glorious downpour smattered down upon rooftop in cascades of monsoon. It layered the sidewalks in shimmery wet, inviting worms to surface for schoolchildren to step on as they make their way to my classroom later this morning in this watery-shimmered world.

I moved through the house with lights off, attentive to the wondrous orchestra playing all around me—reverberating through the four walls and ceiling—and even permeating through the very earth below me.

Light flashed, bringing to life the images hanging on the walls of my home for a brief moment of time.

Exhilaration.

Windows were thrust open, and the sounds were fully welcomed into my world—or I into theirs. Above, the lights of the city reflected off of the dark, twisting clouds as a train whistle pierced the darkness from someplace off in the distance; a melancholy souvenir of places far away, and stages of summer I loathed, yet hunger to live again.

But for now, the rain continues to fall in its eternal drizzle from the skies above me, and the August rushing of wind hits the trees in my Olympic-sized backyard, adding to the ensemble which continues to acquire its musicians.

Like before, I am prepared to meet with a smile whatever challenge is here to greet me today,

Welcome, rain.

Moments that matter

Pin It There are moments.

Moments that occur in our lives which can define us.

It is through these little instances that our lives become intertwined with others, where we mix the colors of our life sketches together for short or extended periods with those which may or may not be family members. It is in these small, perhaps seemingly insignificant moments that we mold ourselves—or even those around us—into the type of individuals we will all one day become.

These are the moments which matter.

I switched on my computer this afternoon and logged into my Facebook account—I wanted to check the activity on the site when I noticed that an old student and boy I’d mentored several years ago had tagged me in a photo. I clicked on the link and was a bit surprised when I was greeted with this image:


I scanned the photo and started to read over the descriptions; as I moved the mouse over the picture, I noticed that names would pop up—squares which had been tagged by people, as friends or acquaintances of theirs who’d fit the description of said box.

When I scrolled over one of the boxes a name popped up I recognized.


The name was mine.

I sat, staring at the screen for several moments in bewildered silence.

I was speechless.

I hadn’t seen the young man who’d done the tagging of this particular image for quite some time; but I thought of many of the experiences we’d had in the mentoring program over the years—all of the good times—as well as the struggles and hardships over the five years I’d worked with him as a young boy growing into adolescence.

I have not been his mentor for a few years now. I have not been his teacher for even more of those years—yet there was something I did which made a difference, something he still remembers.

I am still speechless.

I am reminded of what I said a while ago when someone asked me what my future goals were in regards to my life; to this I responded: I plan to one day take the ultimate photograph, to have a student come back after graduating high school because I made a difference in his or her life, to see each kid in my class feel a sense of belonging, and to get up each morning with a smile on my face and project that into the lives of those around me.

These are the moments…

The call

Pin It I drove.

The open road was beckoning to me.

I heeded its call.

To fields of sunset-drenched wheat…

Warm summer winds blowing away my frustrations…

A Cannon Mark II camera…

Biting red ants climbing on my legs in the long grass on the roadside.

…euphoria.

Small and simple

Pin It Writing this blog was difficult.

I say difficult simply for the reason that it was.

The words wouldn’t pour from my head the way which I wanted them to.

Draft after draft was written, rewritten, discarded, and restarted.

I walked away from my computer. Some time later I returned.

I have found that I cannot force myself to write, and have it sound the way that I’d really like it to. I usually squander my time with my proverbial wheels spinning in mudsling of ineffectual words.

You get the point…I get stuck.

However, I digress…

I have always realized that it is really the smallest of acts which can make the biggest difference for others in this life. In fact, great man once said that it is by the small and simple things we do, that the truly great things can come to pass.

I myself have been the beneficiary of so many ‘little things’ throughout the years; today was not an exception.

I awoke early, got ready, and headed out for the day. As I opened the front door I was greeted with a neon-green bag filled with various Easter goodies—a gift from a friend of mine who just wanted to drop off a little ‘holiday magic.’

I won’t say that I wasn’t grateful, because I was. A little smile stretched across my face, and I couldn’t help but let it stay with me for the remainder of the day.

A few hours later I returned home and once-again began to write on my blog posting for today. As I typed away at the keyboard, a knock sounded at the door.

My roommate went to check who it was; standing there were two neighborhood children whom I’ll surname, Kelton & Breanna.

“Is Teachinfourth here?” came the hesitant question.

My roommate opened the door wide and the two children crossed the threshold, bringing with them a plastic Easter bucket filled with various holiday candy and purple grass.

“Happy Easter!” They both proclaimed. “We brought you treats!”

As they presented their little goodie bucket to me, I felt what was spoken of in Margret Lindsey’s poem, The Little Things:

“The little things are the most worthwhile
Quiet word, a look, a smile.
A listening ear that’s quick to hear,
Another’s thoughts, another’s cares.
Although these things may seem quite small,
These little things mean most of all.”

~ Margaret Lindsey

These are only two of the ‘little things’ which have happened this week for which I am grateful; I really would like to write about them all—however, I’ll put forth a little restraint and not do so. Just know this; it really is those little things which truly make the biggest difference. There is no act of kindness which is wasted on another.

Gratitude - To the Nth degree

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A few days ago I received an email from a friend of mine, who wanted to let me know that her son—I’ll call him, “Joey”—was going to be speaking at his church. Joey had been in my sixth grade classroom five years ago. He was wondering if I would attend; this would be his first time speaking and she said it would mean a lot to him if I were there.

I arrived at 9:00 to the designated address and quietly slipped into the back row, where I could see Joey up at the front. The meeting began and progressed…a few minutes after my arriving, Joey noticed me and broke into a smile, waving.

I waved back.

When it came time for Joey to get up in front of the congregation, I sat up a little taller in my seat. I remembered the young boy in my class, who years before had a difficult time getting up in front of people, and often spoke very quietly. With a lot of practice throughout the year—as well as a mother who challenged him with every assignment I gave—I watched him slowly become much more relaxed in front of a classroom full of his peers.

However, these were not his peers. Some of those present were five or six times his age.

Joey began.

His voice was strong. He looked confidently out into the crowd. He smiled.

He began to talk about how, at this time of year, he was not grateful for parents, religious leaders, good friends, and a teacher who’d taught him to get up in front of crowds of people. He went on saying that he was not grateful for these things only once a year, but every day of his life.

I felt myself beginning to tear up as I watched this young man—still able to see the boy who’d walked out of my classroom all those years ago—a young man who is confident and strong.

For this, I am grateful.

Birthday thanks

Pin It I wanted to write tonight thanking people for a great birthday yesterday. When I stopped to think on all of the ‘little things’ it really added up to quite a bit altogether!

I had an awesome surprise with a Dunford Maple Bar. They are my absolute favorite, and a parent went out of his way (even researching where to get one online) to bring me one before school. It tasted awesome, and it really started the day off right.

I had another parent who made a “Calvin & Hobbes” cake. She’s done this before, but this year went over the top with it…I know that a lot of time went in to this, and I appreciated it too.

One other parent brought in cupcakes for my class—I’m pretty sure she did this as backup…just in case I didn’t have anything planned, and it was greatly loved by the entire class—probably because of the Batman rings on the top of each cupcake.

I brought Chunk-A-Poo Cookies.

The kids had never had them before (well, most of them) and were really excited to finally be able to partake of these delights which have remained a secret family recipe for nearly 10 years. I did make them work for them though…a little clue hunt around the classroom to the theme of Mission Impossible made it all the more exciting.

When the day ended, a previous student came to visit with her family, and they bought in some peanut butter treats. These were great (not quite yours though, Nettle) and we talked for quite awhile about various and sundry things.

I had kind of expected—or hoped—that a crowd of old students would show up. This happens every year, and I was anticipating it happening again this year. I won’t lie…I was just a bit disappointed when they didn’t. I had to remind myself that moving over a mile away really makes visits much more difficult when all one has is a bike or a scooter. I probably take my car far too much for granted.

I left the school around 5:00 and went to another friend’s house who’d made homemade donuts. She’d even attempted a family recipe for maple bars, which were different than what I was used to, but good all the same.

Finally, after arriving home and changing, a good friend of mine and I went to Carrabba’s for dinner. It was a great treat and I had forgotten just how good the food was there. The best way I could describe it is an explosion of taste with every bite.

After dinner I came home, looked at the presents from my parents and siblings, and consciously decided not to open them until Saturday…that way I still have something to look forward to.

Before retiring, I caught up on a dozen or so blogs which I hadn’t had the opportunity to read before.

I wanted to apologize for the length of this entry and the apparent lack of creative writing. I mostly wanted to just get it online without staying up too late…after all, tomorrow is yet another day.

Also, I thought about posting photos, but I don’t know as if I could put photos of my class on a blog without special permission, so I instead choose not to do so. Just know that we all looked FABULOUS!

S&T – The gifts were awesome as was desert Sunday. I felt I needed to add those in as well…after all, they were appreciated too.

G&A - A scathing blog entry of your selflessness and generosity just may be in the immediate future...

KJ - The card was great and made me smile.

If you did something for the day of my birthing and I forgot to mention it, I ask for your forgiveness. I blame my temporary lapse in memory completely on the lateness of the hour and my old age.

P.S. I hope you’re all still planning on coming Saturday…Christmas in September just won’t be the same without you there.

P.S.2. There was something else I wanted to talk about with my class yesterday only I am having trouble remembering what it was. If I remember, I will post it tomorrow...

Goodnight, Bloggers.

My sister

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I wanted to do a post today in honor of my sister.

My sister is amazing at times.

The week is one of those times.

I, at times, can take her for granted and the kind individual she is.

I left on Sunday for a camping trip and would be gone for 4 days. As I blazed out of my house I left it looking like the slob leprechaun had thrown up all over the place.

I came back last night. My house was clean. Everything was organized and put away. My sister even showed up around 5 to make me dinner.

I have a great sister.

I just wanted everyone to know.

But yes, she can still drive me crazy sometimes.