Move over, Cinderella. (And pass the sunscreen.)

Remember when I used to take aluminum cans to the can man to get money so that I could pay for something important?

And when I went to Wal-Mart or the Goodwill for an outfit for someone’s graduation or sport’s banquet?

And ladies, raise your hand if you have taken bags and bags of old/slightly used clothes to the consignment shop so that you could pay your phone bill or get some groceries?

Remember how I’m still searching for a million ways to support myself AND someone who shall not be named but who still wants to get money monthly from a hard-working kindergarten teacher?


Well, guess what?  Wednesday night I leave for a little adventure in the Cayman Islands.  Apparently Ray has a TOWNHOUSE THERE.  IN THE BLOODY CAYMAN ISLANDS.  (I think they’re in the ocean somewhere…..)

Sweet Lord in Heaven somebody pinch me.  Wait, don’t….I would rather not wake up from this. 

(He’s a prince who is showing me what being in love AND living life really means. Good thing I fell for him before all of this crazy @&#* started happening…)


How to render this woman speechless. (And we all know THAT isn't easy...)

Ray and I were getting to know each other, sharing our lives one story at a time.  Because he’s a bit older, he has quite a few more interesting stories than I do. 

And this man can tell a story.

He has a certain way of setting the scene, of capturing the essence of a character and making you feel like you are right there experiencing some of these antics right along with him!  And you know me, I ADORE a good story.

We were sitting on my couch when he shared a particularly emotional story.  He grew up in a small town in Kentucky that coincidentally  (or so I thought) had the same name as the small town my family ended up settling in when my father retired from the Navy.  My mother’s family was in Clearfield, and I think my father felt it was time to take the girl back to her “people.”

When Ray started telling the story I was surprised that his hometown had the same name as mine.  But that wasn’t going to be the only surprise. 

He shared that his father was a kiln worker for Lee Clay Products in Clearfield, Kentucky, and that they lived a very simple life.  (Something deep in my memory was awakened as I was listening to his tale.)  They lived in a small home not far from the factory and even though his parents were vary hard workers, they didn’t have much money.

His father contracted Shingles when he was only 43, and as a result of the incredible pain it caused he decided to end his own life.  I can’t even imagine the horror and pain inflicted on Ray and his mother, and listened intently as he finished his story. 

After his father’s death a man from Lee Clay Products drove down to Clearfield, Kentucky and collected money from the employees and representatives of the company and knocked on their front door.  He came into their home and presented them with the money, and let them know that if there was anything they needed that the company would help them in any way possible.  Ray said that the man’s name was Asbury Lee. 

I looked at him.

Asbury Lee?  ASBURY LEE?  He was my brother-in-law’s father, my sister’s father-in-law and the man that took ME in when I returned from California with a broken heart after being turned away from my own relatives.  He was, in many ways, the one man who seemed like a father to ME when I needed one so badly.

It was the same man.

I looked at Ray in complete shock. Sometimes I forget that there really are no coincidences in life;  only incredible, wonderful, amazing surprises.


Some lessons are taught when no one is looking.....

In education there are always different learning/teaching strategies popping up.  I’m talking about things like “Whole Language Learning”, “Open Classrooms”, “Multi-age Classrooms”, or “Service Learning” just to name a few.  Honestly, there are so many concepts that cycle through education that it’s hard to keep track of what’s hot and what’s not.  They seem to cycle back around again and again, but keeping on top of what’s hot NOW is a job in itself.

While it’s important to keep an open mind and be aware of ways to give the children in your classroom the best education possible, it’s often hard to grab a hold of something that doesn’t speak to you- or incorporate something into your classroom that just doesn’t feel authentic. 

At least that’s my humble opinion.

The “Service Learning” model is a concept that to ME gives a notion that the children are being taught to be empathetic and empowered, but I feel this concept has been become a tool that in most cases doesn’t REALLY teach children about true, authentic and personal “giving” of one’s time and energy.

Let me see if I can explain what I mean.

Having children march from classroom to classroom asking other children to give money or items for a cause that they know nothing about or a cause that doesn’t PERSONALLY affect their every day life is kind of crazy.  It’s nice to gather pennies for a local group that needs money, but most of the children don’t KNOW yet what real need is (thankfully) and so how can they truly empathize with the cause?  I’ve watched over the years and have just been mystified about this whole concept.  I understand the motivation behind it, but I really feel that TRUE service learning should arise naturally in a classroom based on what is happening to the CHILDREN, or children and families they know personally.  It may happen some years…and some years it may not. 

This year it did.

I have a lovely, yet somewhat challenging group of children in kindergarten.  As always it’s a diverse group of kids with a diverse group of needs.  I have many that speak a second language first, and are new to this country.  I also have one particularly challenging challenge this year. (Say THAT three times.)

His name is Jack.

He came to us under some stressful circumstances this fall when he and his mother moved unexpectedly into our community, and he turned my world upside down from the minute he ran into the classroom.
These days we have a certain kind of “love/drive me crazy” kind of relationship.  Every morning at 8:30 I am madly in love with him.  He comes in smiling and dancing and entertains us most of the day. By 2:30 he is usually sitting as far away from me as possible “thinking about” whatever it was he did to give me a massive headache.  He leaves when the bell rings and throws me a quick hug as he speeds out the door. (Usually it hurts.)

The next day the roller coaster begins all over again.  We’ve been doing this for oh, about 140 days.  (Or a million.)

Recently, however, I discovered that his hard-working, supportive and amazing mother has the big C.  She disclosed this to me in a tearful meeting in the hallway when she was handing off a birthday treat for the class. 

It’s not good.  It’s not good at all.

I sent an email to our “classroom parent” asking what she thought about rallying to help this single, struggling mother.  It was a tricky situation, because Jack didn’t know yet exactly what was happening. (As far as I know he still doesn’t.)  The response from  all of the families was just OVERWHELMING!

The parents, in a quiet yet powerful show of support, put together a package of gift cards to help this mother in every way possible.  And while the children have no idea that their classmate is in a battle he doesn’t even know he’s fighting, their parents have wrapped this family in love like nobody’s business. (They know something is happening, but not the details.)

They did all of this without a show, without a parade, without an assembly and without a fanfare.  They did it without a column in the newspaper and without glamour, but they did it with a whole lot of love.  They’ve shown their children by their actions that the best gift, the best lesson of all is to give from the heart when a fellow human being is in need.

The class performed their OWN service learning project... and they didn’t even know it. 

I just hope someday I can tell them.