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Back to school and other things
I have but a dim memory of my first day of school. I went straight to first grade; kindergarten not yet as popular as it is now. Too many new things were going on in my world at once, so it all gets kind of jumbled together. It was 1962 and we had just moved from Mesquite, Texas to Aurora, Colo., via a month long stay at the farm in Albion, Iowa. School was just one more change among many. I got used to it. Before first grade ended, we were in Federal Heights and before second grade was over, we had moved to Castle Rock, Colo. And on it went, throughout my elementary years.
I remember Ben's first day clearly and even more clearly, the end of that first week, when I returned from the bus stop to find his pet guinea pig "Patches," unmoving in his cage. I dreaded Ben's return after a half-day of school that day, for certain.
This year two of my grandchildren embark on their educational journey, with Brayden one of the new kindergartners at McCook Elementary and Haili starting today at her Federal Heights neighborhood school.
Education has changed a lot during these intervening years. There was no such thing as preschool when I was of an age, unless you count my elder sister, Debi, taking me aside at the end of her school day to teach me all that she had learned. Ben entered kindergarten with only the skills I was able to teach him, though Patrick and Lisa had the benefit of two days per week of preschool before they began their formal education. Today, preschool is de rigueur. Which is a good thing as more seems to be expected of our youngsters with every passing year.
I worry sometimes that the pressure is a bit much. The children seem so fragile to me, and we're all so very busy keeping home and hearth paid for that sometimes we end up neglecting body and soul. My heart is moved to prayer. And since they can't pray in school, well, I'll just pray at home.
Hurricane Katrina was beastly. The photos from the area are heartbreaking and the stories are more so, with so many as yet untold.
Nevertheless, I know God is in it. Even though Katrina veered at the penultimate moment and spared New Orleans a direct hit, lack of power and weakening levees have increased the loss of life and property.
God is in it even now <\m> provisions are on the way for food, shelter and a cup of cold water. Still, the enemy is having a heyday as well with reports of looting increasing with each story. I guess natural catastrophes bring out the best in us or the worst in us. Our choice.
Storm clouds build over the ones I love as well, with the potential in each case to do comparable damage to that Katrina accomplished in her fury.
A critical illness has imprisoned one in an intensive care unit with his wife faithfully at his side, praying while doing all that she can to bring him "around the corner" to recovery.
Surgery was an unwelcome birthday present for another dear one <\m> so along with birthday greetings, prayers and encouragement are the desired gifts this year.
Another has received a veritable death sentence, with little chance of reprieve. But the sentence has strengthened the desire to seek out the deeper meaning of life and has inspired a deeper compassion for others that might not have happened in any other way.
The storms come. Name them if you like. Katrina. Cancer. Diabetes. HIV. Divorce. Alcoholism. Drug addiction. They bring out the best in us or the worst in us. Our choice.
In any event, God is in them. And I welcome his presence. Whatever it takes. Better to endure a Katrina, and find him at the end of the rainbow; better to endure the indignities and suffering of cancer or AIDS and discover that it was he who held your hand in the midnight watch; or better to empty that last bottle or snort that last line and see him waiting with arms open wide than to endure the alternative. Eternity will last a long, long time. So, whatever it takes to call us home, to bring us to our knees, to name our Father, to embrace our Savior, let it come. Better any of these than hell.