This is a story about another of my school students. I will call her BJ. She was of mixed race and had the most beautiful complexion I have ever seen. She was 14, overweight, lost and lonely. Her home was extremely dis-functional and she seemed lost and scared most of the time. She had spent most of her life in and out of foster care, but when I first met her she was living with her mother and her mother's current boyfriend. There was verbal abuse, neglect and probably worse in her life, but she was determined to rise above her life. She came to me one Monday morning, very excited. She had gone for a walk the previous morning and found a little store front church where everyone welcomed her. She continued to attend this little church and came in one day to tell me she had accepted Jesus and been baptized in a large water trough the day before. We talked about our beliefs in God and Jesus and shared a sweet moment. Our friendship continued to blossom and she began to trust me. One morning one of the boys said, "Mrs. C., BJ is out in the hall and won't come in." I went out to see her and she told me that her family had been locked out of their apartment and she didn't have any underwear. I left school and went to Wal-mart and brought her back a bag of underwear. She told me she had never had new panties. One day she had a terrible tangle in her hair, which was extremely tightly curled so she tried to cut it out. She came to me crying because her hair looked really bad. I got permission to take her to a salon where they cut and styled her hair and made her feel pretty. Everyone at school commented on how pretty she was. Her smile that day made her truly beautiful. She continued to share with me and open her heart about her life. One day she was in the hall crying and I took her for a walk. She told me that no one had ever loved her. That she felt alone and sad all of the time. Her mother did drugs, her brother was a male prostitute. (I never knew there were any of these in quiet little Carson City), and they were living in a motel where she was being exposed to all of these vices. We talked and I reminded her of her belief in God and assured her that she was loved, I shared with her my belief that she was a precious daughter of a Heavenly Father. We cried together and I put into motion the paper work needed to get her out of that environment.
On the morning of September 11, 2001. I was headed to work when I heard about the terrorist attack in New York City. I rushed into the school and there was my sweet little gal, crying, terrified that we were at war. She rushed to me and begged, "Mrs. C. will you pray with me?" I explained that although I could not pray with her at school because I would lose my job, all day we would each pray in our hearts. Every time we would see each other, we would touch our hearts and remember that we were praying together. That day she would come into the room between each class and place her hand over her heart, and I would do the same. Not long after that day, she was removed from her mother. I took her to meet her social worker to head for a new foster home. As I helped her place her meager possessions into a bag, we talked. I expressed my affection for her, and told her I would pray for her. When the social worker came and took her, I hugged her and she told me,"Don't worry about me Mrs. C., I was baptized and I have the Holy Ghost, I will be fine. Besides, I am used to this." I cried as I watched them drive away, and many time I have thought of that little girl and had a prayer in my heart for her. How sad that any child gets used to living that kind of life. But how wonderful that the human spirit can strive to rise above some of life's worst trials.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
New Year,Same Old Me
Time sure flies. I was so shocked when I was reading my daughter-in-law's blog and realized I had not written anything for 7 months. I have written lots of stuff in my head but have not been motivated to put it on paper. I really have no excuse. I have been thinking a lot about goals as the new year has begun and one of the goals I have set is to be more organized and not put off til tomorrow what I can do today. So here I am, thinking about the past year, my successes and failings. When I retired I cleaned closets, corners, cupboards and everything else for the whole first year. It felt so good, but I recently discovered that the start of the third year in, I need to do it all over again. We raised 5 kids in this house and for the life of me I can't figure out where our poor children put their clothes, toys, etc. My hubby and I seem to have filled up every corner again. It is time to again dig in and clear out. The first year I made a goal to carry one large trash bag out of the house each week. I am not sure what went, but I haven't missed any of it. As I grow older, I kind of get the feeling that all of this stuff is smothering me. We don't need most of it, seldom use much of it and get tired trying to figure out where to put it. We really live quite simply and quietly, except for the times that the kids and grandkids show up to shake things up. I am resolving to go through my books, keep the most precious, share the rest or give them to the library. I love to read and kept thinking I would re-read them, but I have a stack of new reading at the side of my bed a foot high and hope to work my way through those this year.
By this time next year I hope all of the closets, corners, cupboards etc will be swept clean. I love the start of the new year because it gives me a chance to assess where I am, where I want to be and how to get there. I will write more, be more organized, spend more time with my husband,children, and grandchildren, be more spiritual, and more willing to step outside my comfort zone. Great goals for a new year. Wish me luck.
Time sure flies. I was so shocked when I was reading my daughter-in-law's blog and realized I had not written anything for 7 months. I have written lots of stuff in my head but have not been motivated to put it on paper. I really have no excuse. I have been thinking a lot about goals as the new year has begun and one of the goals I have set is to be more organized and not put off til tomorrow what I can do today. So here I am, thinking about the past year, my successes and failings. When I retired I cleaned closets, corners, cupboards and everything else for the whole first year. It felt so good, but I recently discovered that the start of the third year in, I need to do it all over again. We raised 5 kids in this house and for the life of me I can't figure out where our poor children put their clothes, toys, etc. My hubby and I seem to have filled up every corner again. It is time to again dig in and clear out. The first year I made a goal to carry one large trash bag out of the house each week. I am not sure what went, but I haven't missed any of it. As I grow older, I kind of get the feeling that all of this stuff is smothering me. We don't need most of it, seldom use much of it and get tired trying to figure out where to put it. We really live quite simply and quietly, except for the times that the kids and grandkids show up to shake things up. I am resolving to go through my books, keep the most precious, share the rest or give them to the library. I love to read and kept thinking I would re-read them, but I have a stack of new reading at the side of my bed a foot high and hope to work my way through those this year.
By this time next year I hope all of the closets, corners, cupboards etc will be swept clean. I love the start of the new year because it gives me a chance to assess where I am, where I want to be and how to get there. I will write more, be more organized, spend more time with my husband,children, and grandchildren, be more spiritual, and more willing to step outside my comfort zone. Great goals for a new year. Wish me luck.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
New Directions
When I wrote my first blog I said I would talk about my job at some time in the future, and I guess it is the future. I have been thinking a lot lately about events in our lives that lead us in new directions. I have a young friend who was prompted in a dream to look into adoption and is now in the process of making that dream come true. My daughter wanted to communicate with 2 deaf students at her middle school and checked out books on sign language, took classes and had many fulfilling, wonderful experiences because of her new skill. My new direction came in the form of a phone call. My children were all in school, I was enjoying being a PTA mom, making cupcakes, volunteering and working a three hour job at their school. I never applied for the job, but was asked if I would like it since I was there so much of the time. I enjoyed what I was doing and really liked all of the people I worked with. One day, I received a phone call asking if I would be interested in working in something called opportunity school, as an aide to help the teacher with children in Junior High with "problems". Little did I know my answer would start me on a 20 year journey that changed my life and broadened my world considerably.
I began to work in a classroom with about 10 children in 7th, 8th, and 9th grade. Keep in mind that I was very low on the totem pole in the district so I later found that I was the last of several phone calls, everyone else said "No way!" In my ignorance I accepted and was thrust from my very sheltered existence into the world of children with probation officers, psychiatrists, psychologists, foster parents, and a myriad of sad problems. I will change the names of my students when I write about them.
One young man I will call Abe, was a large native american boy, (6ft 4 in.). He was in 8th grade, an alcoholic with a huge problem with truancy. He was trying to get a gang of other American Indian kids to help in his fight against the hispanic gangs in town. He became my protector and my advocate. He was large and scary looking, so when the other students, mostly boys would give me a hard time he would jump up and yell, "Leave her alone." I won his acceptance by something so simple as walking by his desk and patting his arm, thanking him for doing his assignment, and of course bringing cookies. He told me that one time he didn't go home for 5 days and no one even called to see if he had been in school. His pain was apparent to me. He was a talented artist and had a wonderful sense of humor. I wanted to help change his life, and spent much time in prayer and tears over him. One day it came to me, maybe the only thing you can do is make sure he knows you like him. That became my creed as I worked for nearly 20 years with youth who were not always easy to like. I would pray about each one, trying to see and recognize their best qualities and make them aware of them. After 20 years in a job with an average stay time of four years, I knew I could no longer get my heart broken, I retired. I still think of these students often. I didn't ever change their circumstances, but I know they knew that "Mrs. Cherpeski likes me."
I would have missed so much and grown so much less if not for that phone call.
I began to work in a classroom with about 10 children in 7th, 8th, and 9th grade. Keep in mind that I was very low on the totem pole in the district so I later found that I was the last of several phone calls, everyone else said "No way!" In my ignorance I accepted and was thrust from my very sheltered existence into the world of children with probation officers, psychiatrists, psychologists, foster parents, and a myriad of sad problems. I will change the names of my students when I write about them.
One young man I will call Abe, was a large native american boy, (6ft 4 in.). He was in 8th grade, an alcoholic with a huge problem with truancy. He was trying to get a gang of other American Indian kids to help in his fight against the hispanic gangs in town. He became my protector and my advocate. He was large and scary looking, so when the other students, mostly boys would give me a hard time he would jump up and yell, "Leave her alone." I won his acceptance by something so simple as walking by his desk and patting his arm, thanking him for doing his assignment, and of course bringing cookies. He told me that one time he didn't go home for 5 days and no one even called to see if he had been in school. His pain was apparent to me. He was a talented artist and had a wonderful sense of humor. I wanted to help change his life, and spent much time in prayer and tears over him. One day it came to me, maybe the only thing you can do is make sure he knows you like him. That became my creed as I worked for nearly 20 years with youth who were not always easy to like. I would pray about each one, trying to see and recognize their best qualities and make them aware of them. After 20 years in a job with an average stay time of four years, I knew I could no longer get my heart broken, I retired. I still think of these students often. I didn't ever change their circumstances, but I know they knew that "Mrs. Cherpeski likes me."
I would have missed so much and grown so much less if not for that phone call.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Living in the moment
So often in my life I have found myself planning ahead, for a vacation, a seminary lesson, a work day, so many things. Planning ahead is good if you can keep from planning not only the basic event but planning on the outcome. I would envision perfect family vacations where everyone got along, the kids were happy, Vince would be happy and good natured and we would all smile and laugh all the way. The children would be so grateful that we took them on this wonderful trip they would thank us for showing them such a good time. Any woman reading this will probably laugh at me or shake her head and say "Fool." One of the good things about growing older is that we begin to see the value in living in the moment. The best laid plans will probably go awry. At Disneyland, when our children were supposed to be reveling in the joys of the "Magic Kingdom", one chose to lay on the ground and cry, "No more lines! Lets go back to the hotel and swim." I of course could not believe he would feel that way. My good husband knew me well enough to know how I felt and I am sure his brooding silence was sometimes irritation with fighting screaming kids in the back of the van, (no Movies in the old days) and sometimes with me because he knew how I wanted it to be and how it would really be.
Don't get me wrong. We have great kids and we had some wonderful times together, but some how it was never quite what I envisioned. As I grow older, I find it takes too much energy to figure out what could or might happen. I find myself enjoying the moment more.
Yesterday, I went to pick up three grandchildren and their friends to go the movie. The youngest was not going to go (think three year old in movie), but as the others got ready, Mason curled up leaning next to me with his cozy blanket and watched cartoons, laughing and grinning up to me saying, "that's funny huh grandma?" I thought, there couldn't be anything better than this could there grandma? Sitting in the movie, watching the others laugh, I thought it again.
Years ago, as all parents do, we spent a sleepless night with three children with stomach flu, brought home from school compliments of their older brother. I remember changing sheets, pajamas, running the washing machine, and cuddling sick babies. Finally, at about 4:00 AM we crawled exhausted into bed and Vince said, "Remember, if we are really good we can do this forever." (A mormon joke.) We laughed and dozed until the next call came.
The point is that humor, love, patience and sometimes only time passing will get us through to the other side of difficulties. Now when I think of that night, I remember my sweet children wanting to be held and loved, turning to us for help and my dear husband and I laying in bed laughing.
Things don't always turn out how we planned. Things are not always perfect, but looking back we remember the good things, of which there are many. Living in the moment means appreciating all of those small blessings we meet each day. The sunshine after many cloudy days, a phone call from a friend, good food, a warm bed, the smiles of our families, the touch of a loved one. Those small moments we sometimes miss because they aren't really in our plan.
Don't get me wrong. We have great kids and we had some wonderful times together, but some how it was never quite what I envisioned. As I grow older, I find it takes too much energy to figure out what could or might happen. I find myself enjoying the moment more.
Yesterday, I went to pick up three grandchildren and their friends to go the movie. The youngest was not going to go (think three year old in movie), but as the others got ready, Mason curled up leaning next to me with his cozy blanket and watched cartoons, laughing and grinning up to me saying, "that's funny huh grandma?" I thought, there couldn't be anything better than this could there grandma? Sitting in the movie, watching the others laugh, I thought it again.
Years ago, as all parents do, we spent a sleepless night with three children with stomach flu, brought home from school compliments of their older brother. I remember changing sheets, pajamas, running the washing machine, and cuddling sick babies. Finally, at about 4:00 AM we crawled exhausted into bed and Vince said, "Remember, if we are really good we can do this forever." (A mormon joke.) We laughed and dozed until the next call came.
The point is that humor, love, patience and sometimes only time passing will get us through to the other side of difficulties. Now when I think of that night, I remember my sweet children wanting to be held and loved, turning to us for help and my dear husband and I laying in bed laughing.
Things don't always turn out how we planned. Things are not always perfect, but looking back we remember the good things, of which there are many. Living in the moment means appreciating all of those small blessings we meet each day. The sunshine after many cloudy days, a phone call from a friend, good food, a warm bed, the smiles of our families, the touch of a loved one. Those small moments we sometimes miss because they aren't really in our plan.
Monday, March 22, 2010
My Quiet Man
When I was first married I was constantly amazed at what my husband could accomplish. He could fix an engine, upholster the car or a chair. Fix anything around the house and read at the speed of light. He graduated from college with a degree in computer science in the 5th year of our marriage and worked harder than anyone I knew. He built an addition on our house with the help of a few friends and of course our 4 small sons. He built, wired did everything, usually by reading a book about what he wanted to do. His knowledge of so many things was truly astounding. When the inspector did the final inspection he said ours was the most square addition he had ever seen.
As the years have passed and we have endured and celebrated many joys and sorrows I still am amazed by him. He is a man of few words and to be perfectly honest at times I have been frustrated by that part of his personality, but he is a good man. He doesn't always listen to what I say and I often have to speak to him two or three times before he responds to me, but he loves and respects me. He treats me kindly and is patient in the face of my sometimes hysteria about things. At family get togethers he sometimes sits quietly by and listens to all of the talk. But when our children have problems, need advice or a shoulder to cry on he is always there for them. He has held me together through trial more than once. As the years pass and we age, we have begun to talk more, enjoy our time together more and find joy in our children and grandchildren. We come from different backgrounds but have built a life together that I am so thankful for. To have a good marriage, love, four wonderful sons, two beautiful daughters, thirteen amazing grandchildren and my own quiet man is the best any woman can ask for. I have been truly blessed.
As the years have passed and we have endured and celebrated many joys and sorrows I still am amazed by him. He is a man of few words and to be perfectly honest at times I have been frustrated by that part of his personality, but he is a good man. He doesn't always listen to what I say and I often have to speak to him two or three times before he responds to me, but he loves and respects me. He treats me kindly and is patient in the face of my sometimes hysteria about things. At family get togethers he sometimes sits quietly by and listens to all of the talk. But when our children have problems, need advice or a shoulder to cry on he is always there for them. He has held me together through trial more than once. As the years pass and we age, we have begun to talk more, enjoy our time together more and find joy in our children and grandchildren. We come from different backgrounds but have built a life together that I am so thankful for. To have a good marriage, love, four wonderful sons, two beautiful daughters, thirteen amazing grandchildren and my own quiet man is the best any woman can ask for. I have been truly blessed.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Born of Goodly Parents
I have had a special blessing all of my life because of the parents God sent me to. I have always known I was loved and forgiven for my shortcomings. My parents never doubted me and have always been there for me. As the years pass and we all age, I have found myself in a changing role. At times I find myself acting as a parent to my parents. They are both not in the best health and I have had the opportunity to spend time with them in my home caring for them. It is a blessing that I am so thankful for. There is no way I can ever thank my mom and dad for all the the care they took of me. The sleepless nights I am sure they had. All of the meals, (mom is a much better cook than I am), sitting by my bed when I was sick, playing with me, vacations, teaching,so many things they did for me (that all parents do) that I can never really pay them back for. They have been great grandparents and taught me much about how to be a grandparent, but I can never fully repay them for the role they have played in my life. However, I am grateful that I am able to help them in some small way as I care for them and spend time with them. I still learn from them and I think I am learning to appreciate them on a much deeper level than ever before. They are an example to me of love and service, strength and humor, faith and kindness. I love my parents and am so blessed to be their daughter. Thanks Mom and Dad!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Comfort Zones
My husband and I are anomalies in this day and age. We have lived in the same city for 37 years and we have lived in the same house for 35 years. We know few people that can say that. We have raised our children in this house and our grandchildren love to come here to play, or eat or whatever. What can I say? We are comfortable here. Of course we have added on and remodeled the kitchen, and bathrooms and I love to paint walls and decorate, so we have had a few changes over the years. Sometimes when all of the children, their spouses, and their children show up for a visit I curse the tiny kitchen but generally we like our home.
I have been thinking about our comort zones a lot lately because I am always a little resistant about stepping out of mine. I have a new church job and it definitely makes me uncomfortable. I am a den mother. I like kids and having raised four sons, I feel comfortable with the boys. However I hate being in a position where I don't really know what I am doing, and this is the case here. It has been at least 25 years since I had anything to do with scouting, and I wasn't very good at it then. Hopefully, this massive case of discomfort with the situation will resolve and I will learn to love the position. Right now I feel harried, inadequate and somewhat irritated at the necessity of learning so many new things. I guess you could say that I love my safe, comfortable life and am somewhat resistant to change. I hope this isn't an early symptom of getting old. And I guess I should be thankful for the blessing of having to get up out of my proverbial rocker and learn something new. After all shouldn't every grandmother know how to make a shoebox catapult for shooting marshmallows?
I have been thinking about our comort zones a lot lately because I am always a little resistant about stepping out of mine. I have a new church job and it definitely makes me uncomfortable. I am a den mother. I like kids and having raised four sons, I feel comfortable with the boys. However I hate being in a position where I don't really know what I am doing, and this is the case here. It has been at least 25 years since I had anything to do with scouting, and I wasn't very good at it then. Hopefully, this massive case of discomfort with the situation will resolve and I will learn to love the position. Right now I feel harried, inadequate and somewhat irritated at the necessity of learning so many new things. I guess you could say that I love my safe, comfortable life and am somewhat resistant to change. I hope this isn't an early symptom of getting old. And I guess I should be thankful for the blessing of having to get up out of my proverbial rocker and learn something new. After all shouldn't every grandmother know how to make a shoebox catapult for shooting marshmallows?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)