I just finished reading The Ultimate Gift, which is actually a movie, written by Jim Stovall. (Rene Gutteridge wrote the novelization. That is important since her name is on the book cover.) Basically, Jason has to earn his inheritance from his billionaire grandfather by completing a series of tests or “gifts”. If he fails any of them, Jason loses everything. If he successfully completes the tests, the ultimate gift will be his. First, Jason is depleted of his extravagant lifestyle and has to begin his life again as a homeless person. “You don’t begin to live until you’ve lost everything.” This reminder is sent to Jason from Grandfather Red. Words from beyond the grave. Except Red used a video recorder.
As soon as Jason meets a little girl with leukemia I knew this had to be one of those Hallmark Hall of Fame movies. Tissues in hand I sobbed through the predictable plot to the end. It is a sweet story and I thank Stovall for reminding me about the twelve gifts.
The Gift of Work: He who loves his work never labors.
The Gift of Money: Money is nothing more than a tool. It can be a force of good, a force of evil, or simply be idle.
The Gift of Learning: Education is a lifelong journey whose destination expands as you travel.
The Gift of Problems: Problems can only be avoided by exercising good judgment … Good judgment can only be attained by experiencing life’s problems.
The Gift of Family: Some people are born into wonderful families. Others have to find or create them. Being a member of a family is a priceless privilege that costs nothing but love.
The Gift of Laughter: Laughter is good medicine for the soul. Our world is desperately in need of more such medicine.
The Gift of Dreams: Faith is all that dreamers need to see the future.
The Gift of Giving: The only way you can truly get more out of life for yourself is to give part of yourself away.
The Gift of Gratitude: In those times when we yearn to have more in our lives, we should dwell on the things we already have. In doing so, we will often times find that our lives are already full to overflowing.
The Gift of a Day: Life at its essence boils down to one day at a time. Today is the day!
The Gift of Love: Love is a treasure for which we can never pay. The only way we keep it is to give it away.
Sunny and Sher
Sharing my sunny outlook on retirement, parenting, playing, and relaxing.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Friday, April 15, 2011
Lent
Growing up as a Catholic each Lenten Season I was encouraged to give up or “sacrifice” something as Jesus sacrificed his life for us. In the past I have tried to give up delicious delicacies, such as, chocolate, peanut butter, sweets, sodas, snacks and even wine: fruit of the vine. Mostly, I have been successful. Sometimes I cheated. Sometimes my Lenten promise lasted as long as my New Year’s Resolution: a day or two. This year with Easter a week away I’m proud of myself for doing and giving rather than giving up.
I made a pact with myself to compliment or encourage others this pre-Easter season. Like kites, people need to be lifted. There are so many that give of themselves each day and aren’t given the appropriate appreciation for their services. Police, nurses, teachers, fire fighters, military personnel, children, coaches, neighbors, politicians, store clerks, friends, and strangers.
We learned it all in kindergarten. Don’t forget to share and hold hands and take a nap. Say please and thank you. Give someone a smile, a compliment, a sincere wish for a good day. Who knows, you may be contagious and begin peace on earth.
I made a pact with myself to compliment or encourage others this pre-Easter season. Like kites, people need to be lifted. There are so many that give of themselves each day and aren’t given the appropriate appreciation for their services. Police, nurses, teachers, fire fighters, military personnel, children, coaches, neighbors, politicians, store clerks, friends, and strangers.
We learned it all in kindergarten. Don’t forget to share and hold hands and take a nap. Say please and thank you. Give someone a smile, a compliment, a sincere wish for a good day. Who knows, you may be contagious and begin peace on earth.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Linda Lou
Linda Lou is the best friend ever. She buys you presents when you invite yourself to her house to stay for a week. If you ask if you can have something of hers, she gives it to you. I’m not talking cookies. If you say, “Your ring is gorgeous. Can I have it?’ She gives it to you.
I love her because her idiosyncrasies are stranger than mine. In case you didn’t know I can’t stand to have trash in my waste paper baskets. Leaving a dirty glass or spoon in the sink will cause me to have a restless night sleep. But do you know anyone who hangs her pajama-ramas on hangers? I don’t. Linda always looks stylish even when she goes to bed. She owns slippers that match all of her pjs. She doesn’t don yoga pants and a 1995 Penn State sweatshirt every single night. Linda also washes the bottoms of her shoes before she puts them in their original box in her closet. She doesn’t know about the option of throwing caked on muddy shoes in the garage to deal with later.
Linda's house is immaculate and looks like the centerfold for Better Homes and Gardens. Her shampoo, lotion, soap and nail file match the decor and hue of her bathroom. Her cupboards are neatly organized, even the plastic storage containers. I can never find the right lid to fit the container at my house. I didn’t check, but I bet her canned goods are alphabetized. I tried that once but I didn't like to mix my canned veggies with soups or fruit. Then where do you put gravy and sauces? So they have their own little section in my pantry. Then again Tony does all the cooking, so I try not to stress over its organization. The labels, although, do need to be facing out.
Linda is stylish: put together from head to toe. She always sports the perfect jewelry and the cutest shoes to match her outfit. I don’t know for sure, but my suspicions are high that she wears matching under ditties, too.
Some things I do have in common with Linda. Like me, Linda is a worrier. She plays the “What If” game better than I do. Others things we don’t have in common. Being a nurturer, she takes care of family, friends and pets of family and friends. I, on the other hand, like someone to take care of me. We both experience unusual events in our lives that we can laugh about afterwards. Both of us had terrifying encounters with snakes. A water moccasin blocked her way out of her front door, but a poisonous snake hasn’t ever bitten her. Like Tony, her husband Mel drives an old pick-up truck, but he hasn’t run her over yet. Both of us love dogs. She owns a purebred Dachshund named Louie that I call Stretch. Louie rips apart his expensive bed, eats plastic toys and swallows acorns. But Louie has yet to take a bite out of the game warden’s derriere like Harleigh, my mutt from the pound, that never learned to use the doggie door. We both love to shop. Linda is the ultimate shopper: the Energizer Bunny of bargain hunting. We both love jewelry, handbags, sunglasses and shoes.
Linda makes me laugh. Best of all, she makes me feel like I am not the only crazy person this side of sane.
I love her because her idiosyncrasies are stranger than mine. In case you didn’t know I can’t stand to have trash in my waste paper baskets. Leaving a dirty glass or spoon in the sink will cause me to have a restless night sleep. But do you know anyone who hangs her pajama-ramas on hangers? I don’t. Linda always looks stylish even when she goes to bed. She owns slippers that match all of her pjs. She doesn’t don yoga pants and a 1995 Penn State sweatshirt every single night. Linda also washes the bottoms of her shoes before she puts them in their original box in her closet. She doesn’t know about the option of throwing caked on muddy shoes in the garage to deal with later.
Linda's house is immaculate and looks like the centerfold for Better Homes and Gardens. Her shampoo, lotion, soap and nail file match the decor and hue of her bathroom. Her cupboards are neatly organized, even the plastic storage containers. I can never find the right lid to fit the container at my house. I didn’t check, but I bet her canned goods are alphabetized. I tried that once but I didn't like to mix my canned veggies with soups or fruit. Then where do you put gravy and sauces? So they have their own little section in my pantry. Then again Tony does all the cooking, so I try not to stress over its organization. The labels, although, do need to be facing out.
Linda is stylish: put together from head to toe. She always sports the perfect jewelry and the cutest shoes to match her outfit. I don’t know for sure, but my suspicions are high that she wears matching under ditties, too.
Some things I do have in common with Linda. Like me, Linda is a worrier. She plays the “What If” game better than I do. Others things we don’t have in common. Being a nurturer, she takes care of family, friends and pets of family and friends. I, on the other hand, like someone to take care of me. We both experience unusual events in our lives that we can laugh about afterwards. Both of us had terrifying encounters with snakes. A water moccasin blocked her way out of her front door, but a poisonous snake hasn’t ever bitten her. Like Tony, her husband Mel drives an old pick-up truck, but he hasn’t run her over yet. Both of us love dogs. She owns a purebred Dachshund named Louie that I call Stretch. Louie rips apart his expensive bed, eats plastic toys and swallows acorns. But Louie has yet to take a bite out of the game warden’s derriere like Harleigh, my mutt from the pound, that never learned to use the doggie door. We both love to shop. Linda is the ultimate shopper: the Energizer Bunny of bargain hunting. We both love jewelry, handbags, sunglasses and shoes.
Linda makes me laugh. Best of all, she makes me feel like I am not the only crazy person this side of sane.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Make a Difference
In 1997 I made a career change. Not a big change. After 20 years of teaching elementary school I moved to a middle school. I transferred from my neighborhood school, which celebrated its 100th anniversry the year I departed. It housed approximately 500 students. In September of that year I stood in the middle of a 6th grade classroom in a brand new middle school that held 1600 students. I sobbed hysterically. What had I done? I was used to my babies. I taught kindergarten for the majority of my grown up life and there I was unprepared to teach preadolescents with raging hormones. Kids that would be taller than me. My teaching partner, and partner for life, assured me that my students were still babies just in bigger bodies.
My first big mistake of the year was the first day of school. I waste no time (as noted in A Waste of Time). I was accustomed to entertaining my students all day long. I forgot to release them for their electives. All of them: TARDY! Oops. The second big mistake was the first day of school. I walked them out to the buses. I was used to a short silent line of students with their bus numbers pinned to their chests and five buses at the curb ready to board. Imagine 1600 kids released at one time and 40 plus buses revving their engines. Imagine chaos. Hello anxiety attack. My third big mistake of the year was during the first fire drill of the year on the second day of school. Two of my students got in a fistfight in the middle of the other 1598 preteens. One was a 70-pound weakling. The other outweighed him by 100 pounds. I held back the one weighing less than me and let the big guy beat the tar out of the little guy.
Many more mistakes were made in the ten years I taught middle school. Hopefully, I didn’t cause unreparable damage that hindered anyone from becoming a productive member of society. I always hoped that I made a difference in a child’s life.
Last week while visiting the city where I had taught I heard my teacher name called out. I recognized a face that was attached to a 6’5” man. He was my student 7 years ago. Being remembered, acknowledged and hugged made my day. The next evening I received a phone call from Mexico. Ernesto a student I taught 14 years ago, who spoke very little English at that time, tracked me down. He told me he would always remember Tony and me. That we made a difference in his life. Presently, he is a fashion designer with a shop in Mexico: Ernie’s Fashions.
Don’t forget to thank someone who made a difference in your life.
My first big mistake of the year was the first day of school. I waste no time (as noted in A Waste of Time). I was accustomed to entertaining my students all day long. I forgot to release them for their electives. All of them: TARDY! Oops. The second big mistake was the first day of school. I walked them out to the buses. I was used to a short silent line of students with their bus numbers pinned to their chests and five buses at the curb ready to board. Imagine 1600 kids released at one time and 40 plus buses revving their engines. Imagine chaos. Hello anxiety attack. My third big mistake of the year was during the first fire drill of the year on the second day of school. Two of my students got in a fistfight in the middle of the other 1598 preteens. One was a 70-pound weakling. The other outweighed him by 100 pounds. I held back the one weighing less than me and let the big guy beat the tar out of the little guy.
Many more mistakes were made in the ten years I taught middle school. Hopefully, I didn’t cause unreparable damage that hindered anyone from becoming a productive member of society. I always hoped that I made a difference in a child’s life.
Last week while visiting the city where I had taught I heard my teacher name called out. I recognized a face that was attached to a 6’5” man. He was my student 7 years ago. Being remembered, acknowledged and hugged made my day. The next evening I received a phone call from Mexico. Ernesto a student I taught 14 years ago, who spoke very little English at that time, tracked me down. He told me he would always remember Tony and me. That we made a difference in his life. Presently, he is a fashion designer with a shop in Mexico: Ernie’s Fashions.
Don’t forget to thank someone who made a difference in your life.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
A Waste of Time
Do you ever feel like you've wasted your day? Where has the time gone?
I spend a lot of time looking for things. But I make such wonderful discoveries during my searches. I find treasures that have been buried in the deepest recesses of drawers, boxes and cabinets. So really, it is not a waste of time. The unearthed trinkets are obviously important to me or I wouldn’t have stashed them. Then I take a walk down memory lane, which counts as exercise, and travel back in time, which counts as a vacation. And usually I become unstressed and forget about my frantic search to find some silly paper for 2010 income tax, which counts as therapy. So never mind. Searching doesn’t count as a time waster.
I spend a tremendous amount of time knitting, because I’m not very good at sitting still watching the telly or riding in a car. If my hands are occupied I’m not as hyperactive. I feel productive although I’m just sitting on my patootie. So actually knitting counts as relaxation, which we all need, and a sense of accomplishment, which is good for the ego. Usually it takes me months to knit a baby blanket or an afghan to give as a gift for a birth or a wedding. I could purchase one quickly for far less money.But hopefully the receiver knows that it was made with love. “Wow! I must be special. She spent a lot of time working on this just for me.” Making someone feel special is important. I also knit little animals for Alekzander. He’s too young to understand that his Mia made it with love. But the creatures make me laugh and his parents appreciate them. Laughter is good for the soul. Therefore, I’m not wasting time making gifts.
I guess I just wasted my time blogging about time wasters. But now I feel less guilty about how I use my time to the fullest every day.
I spend a lot of time looking for things. But I make such wonderful discoveries during my searches. I find treasures that have been buried in the deepest recesses of drawers, boxes and cabinets. So really, it is not a waste of time. The unearthed trinkets are obviously important to me or I wouldn’t have stashed them. Then I take a walk down memory lane, which counts as exercise, and travel back in time, which counts as a vacation. And usually I become unstressed and forget about my frantic search to find some silly paper for 2010 income tax, which counts as therapy. So never mind. Searching doesn’t count as a time waster.
I spend a tremendous amount of time knitting, because I’m not very good at sitting still watching the telly or riding in a car. If my hands are occupied I’m not as hyperactive. I feel productive although I’m just sitting on my patootie. So actually knitting counts as relaxation, which we all need, and a sense of accomplishment, which is good for the ego. Usually it takes me months to knit a baby blanket or an afghan to give as a gift for a birth or a wedding. I could purchase one quickly for far less money.But hopefully the receiver knows that it was made with love. “Wow! I must be special. She spent a lot of time working on this just for me.” Making someone feel special is important. I also knit little animals for Alekzander. He’s too young to understand that his Mia made it with love. But the creatures make me laugh and his parents appreciate them. Laughter is good for the soul. Therefore, I’m not wasting time making gifts.
I guess I just wasted my time blogging about time wasters. But now I feel less guilty about how I use my time to the fullest every day.
Friday, March 4, 2011
A Song in My Heart
I always have a song in my heart.
Unfortunately it goes to my head and stays there all day. Well, actually it comes out of my mouth repeatedly. It wouldn’t be so annoying except I have a terrible singing voice even to my deaf ears.
Yesterday the combination of “She’ll be coming ‘round the mountains when she comes,” coupled with “Alleluia! Alleluia, alleluia, all-le-lu-ia!” escaped a gazillion times.
Was I praising God for the girl's safe journey over mountainous terrain?
Today …”you make it easy as easy as 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4
There’s only one thing two do three words four you.”
Along with “Take your medicine, take your medicine, take your med-i-cine.” Yes, it is to the tune of Alleluia.
So, I’m going to make it easy and take my medicine. Alleluia!
Do you think I'm crazy? Circle NO.
Unfortunately it goes to my head and stays there all day. Well, actually it comes out of my mouth repeatedly. It wouldn’t be so annoying except I have a terrible singing voice even to my deaf ears.
Yesterday the combination of “She’ll be coming ‘round the mountains when she comes,” coupled with “Alleluia! Alleluia, alleluia, all-le-lu-ia!” escaped a gazillion times.
Was I praising God for the girl's safe journey over mountainous terrain?
Today …”you make it easy as easy as 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4
There’s only one thing two do three words four you.”
Along with “Take your medicine, take your medicine, take your med-i-cine.” Yes, it is to the tune of Alleluia.
So, I’m going to make it easy and take my medicine. Alleluia!
Do you think I'm crazy? Circle NO.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Just in Case
In the 6th grade English curriculum there was a short story about a child’s discovery of a book in his grandfather’s attic. He and his friend were curious about the words that stood still on a piece of paper. How you had to turn the paper to continue reading. They imagined what it was like to be taught by a human and go to a building with their peers to learn.
“A human must be a dull teacher.”
“How can kids learn together in the same room?”
In the age of technology with the choice of Kindle or ebook Readers I bought a bookcase. It was made especially for me to my specifications. Not only the dimensions but I also chose the type of wood and the color of stain. And it was handmade by the Amish. Don’t you just love anything handcrafted? Although I had to wait four months for the finished product I’m very pleased with the craftsmanship, and I have a lovely piece of furniture in which I can store my treasured books and other prized possessions.
In case you are wondering some of my favorite books include:
Alice in Wonderland
Oliver Twist
Winnie the Pooh
The Glass Castle
To Kill a Mockingbird
Kissing Doorknobs
The Prince of Tides
The Divine Secrets of the YaYa Sisterhood
The Notebook
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
The Giving Tree
The Paper Bag Princess
(Remember I taught primary, elementary and middle school for 30 years. There is a lot to learn from a princess whose entire kingdom was destroyed by a dragon.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



