Kids, Music, and Christmas

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It’s that busy time of year. So many things to do! Concerts, parties, baking, shopping. Everyone rushing around, trying to find that perfect gift. Crazy afternoon and evening traffic backed up for miles. Making travel plans to see out-of-town family and friends. Teachers trying to survive the last few days before a much-needed winter break.

With darkness coming earlier each day, it is tempting to go home and go to sleep after work. Or at least snuggle up with a good book, blanket, and cup of hot cocoa, maybe do a little online shopping. But sometimes it is worth it to do something that will spread a little cheer.

Yesterday after school, a teacher friend and I took our choir and student council students to visit an assisted living facility. The kids delivered cards and sang carols to two different groups of residents. You can just imagine the smiles on the precious faces of the elderly patients, many who have health and/or memory issues. The smiles on the kids’ faces were almost as bright.

When I arrived at school this morning, I overheard one student asking another about her visit to the nursing home the day before. Smiling ear to ear her response, “It was great! One sweet little lady gave me a kiss on the cheek.” Oh, my goodness. This excitement from a 5th grader.

Another sweet report went something like, “There was a lady in a wheelchair who looked like she was sleeping. But as soon as the music started, she opened her eyes and started moving!” I think it’s safe to say these children were a bright spot in her day.

Yes, this outing extended our day a little. Yes, it was a little chaotic carpooling thirty-something kids from school to the center and back. Yes, there is a level of stress that goes with making sure everyone gets picked up by their parent. However, all of those were overshadowed by the smiles and thank you’s which followed us out the door and were still impacting us the next day.

The truth is that bit of cheer we spread yesterday followed us right into today. Hopefully, some of it also remained with its original recipients.  

A beautiful circle of hope thanks to kids, music, and Christmas.

Hope, Love, Hate

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Hate: hostile actions motivated by intense dislike or prejudice.

Hate is such a powerful word. When it is encouraged and allowed to grow, the results are devastating. When our kids were young, we taught them not to use that word, especially when referring to another person. Yes, there are times we might not like someone. Everyone does not have to be our best friend. However, to say you hated someone-that was never acceptable.

This year is the 25th anniversary of the release of the movie Schindler’s List. To honor that anniversary it was re-released in theaters this past weekend.

My husband and I saw this movie when it originally came out. Even after 25 years, I remember feeling like I couldn’t move when the movie ended. I was crying, of course. How could I not cry at the sight of so much hate?

It is still difficult for me to imagine how such atrocities occurred and continue to occur in our world. Yes, I know they happen.  And movies such as Schindler’s List make sure we don’t forget the past. 

Love: an intense feeling of deep affection.

I also know there is love. I’ve witnessed its outpouring on others and experienced it in my own life. And yet…the hate still remains.

As Gart and I watched this powerful film once again, this time with our three grown children, different things stood out to me. There’s a particular scene where Jewish people are being put on trains for transfer out of the work camp, most likely to Auschwitz.

Oskar Schindler, a German businessman, sees the people peering through the small windows, gasping for air. He asks the Nazi soldier in charge to give him water hoses and begins to spray water into the cars, providing a small bit of relief.

It may not have seemed like much. Perhaps a sip of water. A moment of cooling in the middle of cramped, unthinkable conditions, crammed into a train car like cattle.

I walked through one of these train cars when visiting the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C.  Small, dark, cramped. I can’t begin to imagine the fear which filled the air as those doors were closed.

The man in charge asked why Schindler wanted to spray this water. Why he would offer them even a moment of hope. His response was, “Humor me.” But there was desperation in his eyes. He knew he had to do something.

Hope: grounds for believing that something good may happen.

Mr. Schindler started out as a businessman, interested only in making money. But in the end, he helped save the lives of 1,200 Jewish people during the Holocaust. There are some 6,000 descendants from this specific group of people.

Near the end of the film, Schindler becomes inconsolable, anguishing that he did not save even more people. He was presented with a gift, a ring, with the inscription, “Whoever saves one life saves the world entire.”

That is hope. Hope which leads to love. Love which will eventually overcome hate.

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” Romans 12:21

Being Content

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“It’s a Wonderful Life” is one of my favorite movies. I enjoy watching it at least once each year in December. Friday evening was my first viewing for this year. The perfect way to end a busy week at school and begin a much needed relaxing weekend. Snuggled up on the couch with a cozy blanket and the Christmas tree lights glowing.

                                        My favorite ornament.

The older I get, the more I understand my love for this movie. It’s about family and the importance of appreciating the little things in life. The main character, George Bailey, a would-be explorer always dreamt of leaving his small town. As we often do in life, he thought surely there must be a better, more exciting life, somewhere else.

This is an understandable occurrence, considering our common emphasis on the material. Pressure to acquire the “next best” in everything from our clothes and cars to our homes and jobs, is a constant presence in our society. A difficult idea to ignore, for certain.

Two particular scenes in the movie caught my eye this time. The first is when George is talking to his hard-working, exhausted father about his need to leave town. At the same time, he recognizes the greatness in his dad. What George doesn’t know, is that it will be his last conversation with his dad.

The second scene occurs near the end of the movie when George realizes that his life truly is a gift. He utters, “I want to live again. Please, Clarence, help me to live again.” The little things in his life suddenly moved to their deserved place of prominence.

I have several favorite moments in the movie, but these particular two are not typically the ones which stand out. As I started thinking about why these specific scenes caught my attention this time, a thought came.

I needed a reminder concerning the importance of being content.

Contentment in my job and current stage of life have been a bit of a challenge lately. Honestly, I’ve spent too much time thinking about “what’s next.” This has made me a little restless. And if I’m honest, also a little grumpy.

So, in these last days and weeks leading up to Christmas here is my goal:

Be content. Look for the positive in each day. Let people know how much they mean to me. Take time to enjoy the simple things.

Easier said than done? Possibly. But hopefully putting it in writing will help. And maybe someday I will be able to say with confidence…

“…I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation…I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”  Philippians 4:12-13

Merry Christmas! Take time to watch your favorite holiday movie. If you don’t have one, give “It’s a Wonderful Life” a try!  It definitely helped me focus on what’s important in my life, and inch a little closer to being content.

This Girl Still Needs Her Mom

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A young teacher friend, also a mom of young kiddos, mentioned asking her mom to come over and help her this evening. She’s tired and rightfully so. Having once been a mom of young kids, I can relate. Without a thought, I chimed in, “Call her! If my mom wasn’t 4 1/2 hrs away, I would have asked her to come see me yesterday.”

I always appreciated times my mom and mother-n-law helped out when our kids were young. The grandpas too, for that matter. I’m still a mom, but the kids are all grown up. I no longer need the same kind of help as when the kids were little.  But is it possible I need my mom now more than I did then?

After the brief conversation with my friend today, all I could think about was how much I miss my mom. We talk or text almost every day. I know I’ll see her over the Christmas holidays. But at this moment, today, that seems like a long way off. My brain says it’s not, but my heart doesn’t seem to follow.

A new, young country artist, Kacey Musgraves, recently caught my ear. Following are a portion of the lyrics from her song entitled Mother. This short, sweet song seems to know right where I am these days.  Take a listen.

https://itunes.apple.com/us/album/mother/1350091548?i=1350091553

I'm just sitting here
Thinking about the time that's slipping
And missing
My mother
Mother

And she's probably sitting there
Thinking about the time that's slipping
And missing
Her mother
Mother

The longer I’m a mom, the more I appreciate my mom. Lately, I find myself wishing I could spend more time with her. The 260 miles between us sometimes feels like a million. Maybe it’s because the older I get, the more I understand the brevity of time. Maybe it’s because I’m starting to realize that she understands how I feel most days…she’s been there already. Not in the exact same circumstances, perhaps, but the same stage in life.

Today I’m grateful for smartphones and texting. At least I can communicate with her daily. That will have to do for now. I look forward to a big hug from Mom (and Dad) in a few weeks. And when I actually see her in person, I’ll let her know how much I love her. She’s my mom.

And this girl still needs her mom.

The Brody Bunch

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When our school behavior tech walked into my classroom carrying a beautiful poinsettia, I knew immediately who it was from. As I began to share the story with my students, tears welled up in my eyes.

Before I became the music teacher, I taught special education. These flowers were from the family of one of my former students. Even though I’m not his teacher anymore, his grandmother continues to bring me this lovely gift each year. The tag reads, “We love you, Mrs. Morris.” From “The Brody Bunch.”

My student’s name was Brody. The first year I taught special education, he was in my class. Brody is a funny boy. He has his very own sing-song language. Listen closely and he will let you know if he’s happy, sad, playful or upset. Although understanding his language takes practice, it is worth the effort.

Brody has autism. Our first year together as teacher and student, I had more questions than answers. His family was helpful and gracious as I navigated my new job. Somehow Brody and I connected. He would look directly into my eyes, often a difficult task for individuals who have autism. It seemed as though he was peering right into my soul, understanding much more of me than I understood of him.

Brody’s grandma, know as Meece, was sweet from the beginning. Meece brought Brody to school almost every day, walking him to my classroom. Her morning greetings always started our day on a positive note. Then she and Gramps would pick him up in the afternoons. Brody and I enjoyed a daily afternoon walk to meet them in the parking lot after school.

Although I’d communicated with Brody’s mom and Meece, it had been several years since I last saw him. Last year while visiting another former student at a different school, I heard a familiar song. It was Brody! Looking all grown up and much taller, but the same Brody.  

Not sure if he’d remember me, I walked over to say hello. His approach was cautious, his look at first puzzled. But then he grabbed my hand and looked me directly in the eyes. That same look I’d seen many times before. Yes, he knew me.

The delivery of this beautiful red and green poinsettia not only added some holiday cheer to my messy desk, but it also brought a flood of memories. Memories of both the challenges and joys of those first teaching experiences.  Memories of the challenges Brody faced and continues to face.

Memories of one precious student and his amazing family-The Brody Bunch.

More Than Just a Band Concert

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My husband and I recently attended our last winter concert as band parents. Our youngest son, a tuba player, is a senior. If not careful, my emotions can quickly take over during events like this. The powerful music, memories of concerts past and of faithfully attending family members who are no longer with us create a perfect recipe for tears.

The band program has been an integral part of our family life for many years. Great memories. So many expressions of support and encouragement. Sibling to sibling, parent to child, grandparent to grandchild-a beautiful circle of family love and support. With an added bonus of experiencing amazing music. (Not to mention the after-concert dessert. That may be the part I’ll miss the most.) 

Of course, some “mom” traditions accompany these events. Pre-concert photos, often by the Christmas tree, for starters. Due to a musical rehearsal after school, I was not home to get that picture this year. Instead, I was meeting our son for a quick dinner before the concert.

As he climbed out of his car, looking so handsome in his tuxedo, I said, “Oh no. I wish I’d thought to have Rachel take your…”. Before I could finish my sentence, he said, “It’s ok, Mom. Rachel took a picture. She knew you’d want one.” I managed not to burst into tears, so proud that my kiddos recognize the importance of these little things.


                                     Winter band concert 2018

Sitting in those performing arts center seats once again, like so many times before, I was overcome with a sense of gratitude for this experience in our kids’ lives. Involvement in these groups grounded them, gave them a place to belong, and taught them a life-long skill. Responsibility, creativity, discipline-to name a few of the strengths gained. And all of this in the setting of a public-school music program.

While listening to beautiful music, I noticed the number of students on stage. All of these individuals, capable of making a lovely sound on their own. Yet working together, their parts intertwined, created magic. And all the magic held together by an amazing teacher/director standing in front of them.

Although I know time must keep moving, and a new season is approaching, it’s difficult to imagine a school year without such events. I’m looking forward to discovering what new things we will celebrate and encourage as parents. But I will always remember our years attending concerts with joy, thankfulness, and appreciation for the power of music. Looking back with the understanding that if you look closely enough, you realize each event was much more than just a band concert.

Study AP Sets

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From the heart of an amazing teacher.

Rebecka Peterson's avatarone good thing

As I was walking around second hour today, I noticed a student had written, in all caps, “STUDY AP SETS” on the homework assignment they had just received.

They have an AP Set Quiz tomorrow.

I know most of these students don’t share my absurd passion for rates of change and my undeniable love of calculus.

And yet they throw themselves into this like it’s everything.

I’m tearing up writing these words…

Maybe that’s because I keep seeing posts about how millennials–the generation I teach–are lazy; about how they want instant results and immediate gratification.

Really?

Are we so sure about this?

The kids who spend all day in a classroom, all afternoon on the field, and all evening at work, and then still go home to do what they demanded of themselves twelve hours previously: study AP Sets.

Are we talking about the same generation?

Because I see kids…

View original post 250 more words

Quest for Oatmeal

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This week I suddenly found myself wanting oatmeal, of all things. Almost as intensely as those pregnancy food cravings. It’s been a while, but I still remember those.

First pregnancy-Payday candy bars and Fresca
Second pregnancy-Mexican food, but definitely not barbecue
Third pregnancy-Pepperoni pizza with jalapenos

Those make sense. But oatmeal? And how could it be that difficult to obtain? My simple thought of oatmeal for breakfast turned into a three-day quest! At the first thought of it, the wise thing would have been adding to the grocery list. I did not. Remembered right when pulling into the driveway, after stopping at the store. “Oh well, tomorrow…”

Tomorrow came and went. My husband made the next trip to the grocery store. Thought to ask him to pick up oatmeal…as he was walking through the front door.

By day three, I was determined. The thought of Starbucks oatmeal crossed my mind, but I was running late for work. Not time for the drive-thru. Walgreens is on the way to work-surely, they’d have instant oatmeal in stock. Finally! A box of Quaker oatmeal in hand, I headed to school. Sounds like a happy ending. Well, not quite…

The plan was simple. Put a packet in a coffee cup and run hot water from the Keurig. Stir, wait, eat! Hint-you should not choose the biggest cup option on the Keurig when making oatmeal. Too much water. A follow-up attempt to microwave caused an overflow and a big mess to clean up.

Not ready to give up, a second try was underway. This time choosing the smallest cup option on the Keurig proved a better decision. A short time in the microwave was still needed, but this time a paper towel over the cup prevented any more messes. Success!

After my three-day quest, I was sitting at my desk, preparing for my first class, enjoying a cup of Quaker maple/brown sugar oatmeal. Not sure I’ve ever appreciated oatmeal as much as I did at that moment.

Reflecting on this little adventure, I kept going back to one question. Why? Why oatmeal? Why such persistence?

This week has been a struggle. Cold weather, not as much sunlight, not enough sleep. All working together, negatively affecting my mood. I began to sense low days ahead.  Maybe the desire for something warm and comforting, particularly something simple like oatmeal, was an attempt to pull me out of this blue mood.

One thing is for certain. Tomorrow morning, I will have a bowl of oatmeal-at home-with my coffee. Sitting on my couch, only the lights of the Christmas tree shining. And hopefully, this small attempt at taking better care of myself will prove worthy of my three-day quest… for oatmeal.

Going to Mars

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Since I was a little girl, I’ve always been fascinated with the moon, the planets, and stars. Being far away from the city lights, able to see uncountable numbers of celestial objects, was something I looked forward to. I don’t even begin to understand the science behind these bodies. What are they made of? How long have they been shining? Will they burn out? Despite my lack of scientific knowledge, my fascination is not diminished.

Today was an exciting day! NASA sent another object to Mars-the InSight Lander. It has been traveling on a seven-month, 300-million-mile journey, and today was landing day! Apparently, it is supposed to spend two years studying the inner workings of the planet by measuring seismic activity. I know enough to understand that means earthquakes on our planet.

My point is not understanding all of the science behind today’s events or their purposes for our society. It’s really about curiosity and how events such a this spur the imagination. Sharing this information with some of my students, watching live while the scientists waited on the landing, their anticipation and excitement were contagious.

Even though we could not visibly see the InSight Lander, there was a countdown scrolling along the bottom of the screen. With each goal that passed-heat shield working-heat shield separating-parachute deploying-students would gasp as if they’d been holding their breath. Once the landing was announced, they clapped and cheered right along with the scientists in that NASA project control room.

Of course, there were some funny moments too. More than one precious kiddo asked, “Are we sending a man to Mars or just a robot?” “Mrs. Morris, I’m so excited about a person going to Mars!” “Not a person…not a person.” Also a few concerned, confused looks. Possibly related to watching too many sci-fi movies or playing too many video games. With a little reassurance and my simplified explanations, they were at least able to understand the basics of what was happening, and know that we were not being attacked by Martians.

I’m sure there will be some interesting conversations tonight if students are asked what they did in music class today. Who knows? Maybe that little detour from our music lesson sparked some new interest. It certainly reminded me of the beauty not only in our world but also in our universe.

We may not be able to see it all up close and personal, but we can appreciate it by simply gazing at the night sky, looking through a telescope, or viewing images taken in space and transmitted back to Earth…from a camera on a capsule…which traveled for seven months…and then landed on Mars.

I can’t wait to show my students the first image that was sent back from the surface of Mars today!

https://blogs.nasa.gov/insight/2018/11/26/nasas-insight-sends-first-pictures/

Happy Anniversary!

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Fifty-four years
Quite a long time
To spend with someone
Morning, noon, and night

Coffee in the morning
Always a kiss goodnight
Moments in between
Praying for all to be right

An example for our family
And all others they may meet
Showing a love so strong
Though also simple & sweet

Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad!
Your wedding vows held true
Richer or poorer, sickness & health
To you both-a grateful Thank You!