Saturday, August 13, 2011

STIRRING IN THE HUMOR

STIRRING IN THE HUMOR
As a gust of negativity hits, do not let it take you down. Embrace it as a challenge. Stir in some positive attitude and a bit of humor. Invite God to join your spirit, and realize everything will be okay!
~Marie T. Morrison~

Thursday, August 11, 2011

NOT TO WORRY

NOT TO WORRY
It is a bittersweet moment, as family members leave home to begin an independent school experience. They are ready to begin a new chapter in life, but it tough on the parents to let go. God will be there to guide them in their choice making and their Guardian Angels will be there to protect them. They will be in good hands.
~Marie T. Morrison~

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

BEING THERE


God gives us different rides in life. Things can be going smoothly, when an ungentle wave hits. No matter the journey, He is there, through every turn we take.
~Marie T. Morrison~

Sunday, August 7, 2011

FREDDIE-A Cup of Spirituality

FREDDIE-A Cup of Spirituality
Let me tell you about someone I will call Freddie, meeting him when he was 17. I was his teacher, him being a loquacious young man, having thick, bright red hair and the face full of freckles to match, his bright blue eyes outlined by black glass frames. He was not too tall, around 5’6” and lanky, being quite the bicyclist. This was his mode of transportation, as well as his sport, also loving hiking and skiing.
Being able to read, spell, write and perform math functions were not easy for Freddie. Notice I did not say learning was difficult, as he was thirsty for knowledge. He wanted to know everything. He would come to class to tell me everything he had learned on the nature program the night before, what the science show was about and what he saw while out on the mountain bike rides. I would listen with intent and comment with excitement, but would then tell him I did have to work on the reading and writing assignments. He would understand, as he so wanted to do these on his own someday. I would create the work according to his interests, sparking new excitement in him, which of course, got him talking a mile a minute all over again. He wanted to know more history in that era and what else could I say in the geography lessons.
His parents had me over for dinner one night, at his request. He kept bringing things out of his bedroom for me to see. First, it was his skis, next his sketch pad, going through each page of fantastic drawings, him talking a mile a minute about why he drew what he did. In no time, I was surrounded by items on the floor and the coffee tables, he remaining passionate and his parents and I grinning as Freddie brought one more piece into the living room. What a fun evening that was!
At the end of the year, I told his parents I was not returning to the school, that I was going to do private tutoring out of my home. They said they would be following me. Freddie came to me every morning, arriving promptly at 8am on his bicycle, staying for three or four hours. The routine continued, of him telling me of what he had learned on his programs and bicycle rides after he left me, then we would dig into the subject matter.
My husband, children and I began to include him in some of our evening meals, where he would take care of the talking for all of us, silently smiling and nodding, as he would share whatever was in his head with us. Tom, my husband, thought that maybe we could get Freddie not to be quite as talkative if we began to show some of our slides with him after our dinners together. The plan was for Tom to teach Freddie about new mountains and wild flowers, but he was always one step ahead of us, having learned something else on a nature show to add to the conversation. Once in awhile, we did have to tell him that to listen just for a minute, so he tell his dad he saw a slide of a particular mountain. He loved to go on a trip with his dad, always a special treat for him, so listening for a moment did bring a new smile bright-eyed look to his freckled face. Seeing slide shows was not his cup of tea, but it became the ritual after every dinner. He loved the food and the company, so he put up with the slides, though there was the routine complaining during the set up.
One morning, Freddie showed up with a 400 page book he wanted the two of us to read together. How could I turn away such will and determination, though I knew his reading level was grade two? I put on my pot of tea and he began to read. In one hour, we had read four pages. He knew every bit of the subject matter in those four pages and I had no idea. The hour was the shortest ever for him and I had never known an hour could feel so long. This went on every, single morning, day after day, week after week, month after month. I kept a box of tissues by me, as my eyes and nose ran from the boredom, calmly helping him with each word, sipping my endless cup of tea. It was hard not to look at the clock. He would comment at how exciting it was getting, and I would excitedly say, “Boy, is it ever!,” not having any idea what was happening. It was not a book I would ever pick up on my own to read, so I was not reading ahead; my eyes would be watering even then. One week, Tom was home sick, hearing Freddie read from the other room. He spent that first hour smothering his head in pillows and heavy bed covers, but could still hear him reading. He could not wait to return to work. He never again questioned my job as a teacher and the amount of patience it requires.
In his third year with me, I told Freddie and his parents I thought it was time for him begin a job. All were horrified at the possibility of letting him loose like this. I told them that he must, that he had to learn to become independent. This is a hard concept for any parent, but especially if there are any challenges involved, as there were with Freddie. He and I went over to the grocery store, getting him hired as a bagger. He would arrive at my home every morning for lessons, mad about something that had happened the day before at work, and off we would go to smooth out with the manager whatever it was, the grocery store being just down the street. One morning, I was telling him to try extra hard to look at his bagging job with a positive attitude. He said back to me, “How would you like it if all day long, all you said was, ‘Paper or plastic?’ “
One Friday morning, Freddie showed up, though I knew he had taken off to do a three day hike with his dad and friends of his dad’s. He walked in, furious, because his dad said they would not leave until Freddie cleaned the bathroom and he did not want to clean it. It took some convincing, with me telling him how much his dad did love him and cleaning it would not take much time. I said to hurry up and do it so they could get on their way, about a five or six hour drive to the mountain peaks they were to climb. A bit more grumbling went on, then out the door he went, got on the bike and pedaled home, a six mile ride.
That Sunday evening, the doorbell rang, and there was Freddie. I was surprised to see him. I did not recall in that last minute conversation for him to report back to me at the return of the hike. Tom came to the door with me, both of us welcoming him with a cheerful voice, asking him what was up. With his head down, standing outside the screen door, one step down from us, he said, “My dad’s dead.”
We knew we must have heard wrong, opening the screen door to tell him to come inside. Stammering, we asked him, “What did you say? What?” He said it to us two more times, “My dad’s dead.” Putting him between us on the couch, catching our breath, we asked him what he meant. We did not really know what to say or ask, words not making sense coming from our lips. He said his dad and his friends were going across an edge to see something on the other side of the cliff. His dad told him not to try and walk across the narrow path, that he would be right back. He watched his dad slip on some rock and fall 1,000 feet, yelling as he fell.
As Freddie continued to say how he watched him fall, our phone rang, it being Freddie’s mother on the phone, asking if he was there. Apparently, the friends brought back Freddie and as soon as they got back in his driveway, he jumped out of the car and took off on his bicycle. It was completely unexpected. She was hoping it was our home where he went, relieved he was there. At the same time, she wanted to see her son, would he come home. We gave him the message. Tom said he could come for dinner the next night, he would fix Freddie’s favorite meal. Freddie said he would like that, adding, “Just don’t give me any slide shows.”
Two weeks later, Freddie’s mother called, to say she was re-writing the will. She asked if I could be put down as Freddie’s legal guardian if something ever happened to her. His younger sister was not old enough to take on such a responsibility. I told her it would be an honor.
A couple of years went by and Freddie continued to come to our home, almost daily, then after awhile, weekly. No longer were they for lessons, but just for visits. The visits began to be monthly. I told him we were moving to a new home, though would be in the same town. Tom asked me when I was going to tell him where we would be living. I said I did plan to tell him, but not just yet. To tell the truth, I needed a little break. I cared for him, but he was older now, his sister was older and his mom was still at the same home, where all three lived. I would wait until we got settled in the new home, I got used to my new job, then give a call to say where we were. Tom understood, thinking it was a wise decision.
Six weeks into living in our new home, the doorbell rang, and there was Freddie. I was astonished to see him and his bicycle at our door. Telling him to come on in and offering him a glass of water, I asked him how he knew where I lived. He said he had been looking for me since we had moved, going up and down every street, looking for my car in the driveway. It reminded me of the Bible passage, “Seek, and you shall find, and the door will be opened to you.”(Luke 11:9; Matt.7:7) Once again, his will and determination took him on the journey he wanted, this time him being my teacher.

Epilogue: His mother passed away over five years ago, from breast cancer and him no longer stopping by, so much older now. I got a phone call soon after from his sister, saying the will had me as her brother’s guardian, would I sign papers so she could be his guardian now. I had wondered, through the years, if the will had been changed, knowing she was now a woman. I did sign the papers. She said she had bought Freddie his own condo, on a different floor and across the patio from her, so she could watch him come and go. I was thrilled to know he was independent. They were planning to move to another state. Hopefully, he now has a job where he now gets to say more than, “Paper or plastic?”