A Grateful Heart Indeed

I am not a scaredy cat. I am a tough cookie. I am not a wimpy kid. I am a strong dude.

But no matter how tough I am, I realized that I have a soft spot too. And no matter how strong I can be, I realized that I have a weakness too.

But life has its funny way of making me realize not only how vulnerable I am but how susceptible I am to life's little trials. And in one phone call my disposition in life was altered.

A couple of months ago an abnormal cell was found in my pap smear. That particular cell according to my doctor may cause cancer. I was advised to see an Ob Gyne and was scheduled for biopsy right away. The tough cookie was then turned into a scaredy cat. The strong dude is now a wimpy kid.

I was scared out of my wits but I was able to contain myself with the same amount of dignity while holding on to my faith harder than I used to. I thought I will be able to keep the sad news to myself and decided that I would just tell my immediate family and no one else. But two days before my scheduled biopsy... with a little hint of doubt [I had to admit] and a fear ample enough to crack me into panic attack... I sent out a message to all my closed friends and relatives and former students and colleague about the sad news... asking for their prayers.

I knew then that I need support from people who care to help me keep the faith. I felt then that I badly need to surround myself with caring people from whom I can draw strength from. I have never felt so helpless and scared.

The following day... I was deeply touched for the outpouring of love and concern from my dear family and friends all over the world. I am so grateful for all the prayers and thoughts thrown out my way during this crucial event in my life. And I am mostly thankful for God's blessing not only for the faith but for the love of those people who I know care so much for me. Their prayers gave the strength that I needed to keep the faith. Their thoughts served as a strong pole that I can hold on to to keep my hope stronger.

I didn't need to undergo biopsy. My Ob Gyne told me that the abnormal cell found in my pap smear is normal since it was found during the menstrual period. And she told me that I have nothing to worry about.

I was relieved and I was grateful for how the consultation went on. But I was most grateful for the opportunity given to me to realize how blessed I am to have people who care so much for me.

Prayer

Lord, thank you for the gift of life

And thank you for giving me another take on life

Thank you for the gift of people who care

And thank you for making me realize how fortunate I am to have them in my life.

Amen

A GRATEFUL HEART FRIDAY

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A glimpse of my trip to Haiti...

This is a GUEST POST from a good friend and colleague about a little Haitian girl who touched her life in tremendous ways.

The trip was good but such an emotional roller coaster. Some beautiful some very, very sad.

Like being petrified in the Haitian airport as we arrived (misbehaving, angela says). No one there to meet us, two white girls... alone, in a 5th world country, surrounded by a sea of Haitian men all grabbing our luggage (wanting to earn our tips). No way to communicate, Haitian men leading us further and further away from the airport with our luggage in tow. Fifteen minutes of thinking, “this is it...” And then seeing pastor (who I’ve only met one time) and wanting to jump right up in his arms and kiss him.

Seeing a baby with a fungus growing all over the back of his head as I was going to bed and then waking up to the sweet, sweet sound of Mimos and the whole orphanage singing hymns in Haitian.

Children begging for food and then after getting it immediately sharing it with the children standing next to them.

Driving down the filthy narrow streets in Pastor’s truck, seeing starving dogs, wild goats, pigs and chickens searching for food in piles of burning garbage and seeing small children playing in the same piles of trash with no adults in site. Then arriving at the orphanage and seeing the small children run up to Pastor and seeing the love they have for him and he for them and how hard he has worked to get them off the streets and give them a safe place to grow and wait for their “forever homes”.

Young girls, squatting on the floor washing clothes out in tubs in a dark dingy hallway, day after day, hanging them on the rooftop, working harder than I ever dreamed of working......never ending and then seeing them all dressed in their Sunday clothes, hair fixed, smiles on their faces and worshipping their Lord. (Jeremiah 31:25 I will refresh the weary and satisfy the heart.)

Women working in the primitive kitchen, from morning to night, preparing food for 100 children. Then watching several preteen boys coming home from school, going directly to the kitchen (without prompting) and giving these women a kiss on the cheek before going to change out of their school uniforms.

Children pushing and shoving one minute and then the next, sitting down to feed a younger child their mush.

Standing of the rooftop of the orphanage looking to the right and seeing such poverty and devastation and then turning to the left and seeing the wonderful scenery of mountains, coconut trees and beauty.

Walking the street to church, stepping over raw sewage and then walking into the church and seeing these people who walked through the same street and live there praising the Lord.

Watching Esther love her Mama, kissing her and say "I love you" and then having to leave her in the dungeon, in the arms of another.

So so many mixed emotions. I think the hardest part was......as we were leaving, sitting in the truck waiting for the others......a mom was sitting outside the orphanage with a little one (maybe 18 months old) on her lap. This baby was draped over her lap, like a wet noodle, not moving at all. The mom was braiding her precious child's hair. The babies hair was orange. Angela informed me that that meant the child was in the last stages of dying from being malnourished. I can't get this out of my mind, I just can't. Makes me cry every time I think of the love that Mom had for her baby and the only thing she could do for that baby was braid her hair.

I am still processing this, still feeling many emotions. Not sure if I will ever be able to “sort” them out. The one thing I do know is, that I am not in control. I am by nature a “fixer”, I always try to find a way to make everything better. Not this time. God is in control, He has a plan, He is a loving God. His word says to call out to him to wait in expectation......that is what I shall do.

The trip was good but such an emotional roller coaster. Some beautiful some very, very sad.

Written by: Bonnie Knight [Waterboro, Maine]

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Prayer

Lord, more often I ask you for blessings,

more often I ask you to take away my burdens

and more often I question why life is tough for even the simple disappointment I get

Forgive me Lord for being ungrateful and selfish

Forgive me for being impatient and unreasonable

But most of all forgive me for not being grateful for the things I have when other have nothing but faith.

Amen.

A GRATEFUL HEART FRIDAY

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Success 101: Play!

“Go get Nick! Go get Nick!”… the kids shouted in unison. “Tag him! Tag him!”… as the adrenalin rush sent a thundering chant so loud filling the entire gym with excitement. Nick was sneaky and slippery like snake but with one quick and fast turn fueled with hormonal competitive instinct… I changed phase and tagged him! Uproar turned the gym upside down and next thing I knew my heart was up to my throat.

It was one of the best games I ever played in… [thinking… and counting] thirty five years!

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I did play a lot when I was younger but I don’t think I played hard enough like these kids do under my care. I wasn’t able to play hard enough because I was afraid my trendy clothes will get dirty or ruin my hair or my nails. I wasn’t able to play hard enough because I didn’t want to get sweaty and smelly. And I wasn’t able to play hard enough because I was so busy playing “grown-up”.

As a kid… I think I was matured for my age as compared to my playmates. Back then, I was more interested in fashion and planning for my future. I was a dreamer. I had big plans for myself and set a time frame to achieve them. I had no time to play with my playmates because I thought it was just a waste of time. I had no time for childish game.

As a grown up… I feel that I missed a lot from growing up. Now, I am turning back the time. I am learning new games. Kids taught me to play games that can make my trendy clothes dirty and I don’t care if they ruin my hair or my nails. Now I am playing “tag-you-re-it” and “octopus, octopus” and I am always sweaty. Kids taught me games that I refused to learn when I was a kid because it’s too childish. Now I am playing monopoly and card games like Skip-Bo and Uno, and I love kids’ games. And kids taught me to play active games that make the time pass by so quickly. And now, I am loving every minute of it.

PLAY… For kids – it Is an essential part of growing it. For adults – it is an essential part to get in touch with the child in us. Life is too short. Take a break… relax… play… and let life pass by like a child in play… active… full of enthusiasm… and competitive.

“The world is your play ground.

Why aren’t you playing?”

~ Ellie Katz

As I always say to my kids when they are getting stationary and passive… Go Play!

Ruthilicious... absent in the Classroom, present in the Chatroom. She blogs when she is NOT Facebooking doing chores and she blogs while she is ALSO Facebooking doing chores.

To read more about her Teaching-Learning Experience... Click HERE.

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Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to All. May God's blessing be shared to one and all.

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AHA Moment: The Prom

Prom! Who didn't have a chance to experience it? Who doesn't look forward to it? And who dreaded it?

Prom! Ah, memories... memories... memories. Those were just memories.

One of the fond memories I had during my teaching career was attending the JS Prom. The Prom is one of the highlights of High School. Most students look forward to it. And most of them have their own share of Prom memories… either good or “never mind”.

You see, I went to a conservative High School under the exclusive management of Catholic Nuns. During that time, we were not allowed to have a Prom because it was inappropriate for a boy and a girl to dance. But no matter how strict the Nuns were that time, we managed to convince them to have a Prom. And we did. It was held in the classrooms…in broad daylight… in the middle of a hot humid [almost summer] day… wearing Gala Uniforms. Boys and girls did dance with each other but under the strict supervision of the Nuns patrolling the dance floor like military soldiers searching for boys and girls behaving badly.

So when I was accepted to teach in High School 1996… it was indeed the day that I really attended a Prom… in the Plaza… under the twinkling stars… in the middle of a cool [almost summer] night… wearing a Gown. I attended Prom for 11 long years. Each year is different. Each year I wore different gowns. And each year I danced my heart out.

Looking back now… I can say that I did have a wonderful High School memories both as a student and as a teacher.

Ruthilicious... absent in the Classroom, present in the Chatroom. She blogs when she is NOT Facebooking doing chores and she blogs while she is ALSO Facebooking doing chores.

To read more about her Teaching-Learning Experience... Click HERE.

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