PPBF: Broken

With only 5 days until Christmas 2025,

today I'm grateful for health and healing.

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She Forgave Him

Today, I'm thinking about forgiveness.

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The Weight Of That Wheelbarrow

One of my favorite things in recent years is reading to my Dad; 

his favorite stories come from master storyteller, Bob Goff.

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PPBF: Two Rabbits

As we March into spring, hopefully you're enjoying warmer temps.

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My Friend Grace

Today I'm frustrated because I had an epic Mommy fail.

A Friday fail.

A FlaVorIce fiasco.

By now you're probably thinking Oh, no, what happened?

Well, here's the backstory.

It was last night, as Joshua was headed back to Marching Band practice, when he mentioned that he needed to put twenty of these FlaVorIce in the freezer because he wanted to surprise his French Horn section with a treat at break on Friday morning. I told him to go on the practice, that I'd do it for him. And we both went on our way, never giving it a second thought.

This morning at o'dark hundred, as Joshua was getting ready for Marching Band, he asked if I could help him get those frozen treats into an insulated carrier ... 

and that's when I froze. 

I went numb, actually, and my heart sank. He must have noticed, because he added, "you did put them in the freezer last night, right?" 

I was frozen, but they weren't.

I'd failed. Big time.

And it was a time when failure didn't feel like an option.

Nor did it feel like a first attempt in learning as seen on these cute little minis that keep popping up on Pinterest.

Click for source and to download.

So my brain kicks into problem-solving mode.

When did he need them by?

Would they freeze in time?

If not, where could I buy some frozen ones?

Surely I could sneak them up to the school.

But he shrugged it off, hugged me, and told me not to worry about it, that he could do it next Friday. When I checked the calendar, there wasn't a practice scheduled for that day. so I suggested Monday. Surely they'd be sufficiently frozen by Monday! But he said no, that wouldn't work. Why not? I pushed.

Joshua: Because it's not alliteration.

Me: Wait, what?

Joshua: Alliteration.

Me: You've lost me.

Joshua: Like Watermelon Wednesday. This was going to be Friday Freezer Pops. It's okay, mom. It's fine.

And I started to cry. 

I'd let my boy down, in a big way, and he was comforting me with a gentle reminder about my friend Grace. I was beating myself up for forgetting and he was forgiving me, no questions asked. I was trying to make it better, and he was telling me that it's okay.

Forgiveness on a Friday; how's that for alliteration? 

When John got back from dropping him off, I asked if Joshua was as upset about the freezer pops as I was, and he said no. There's a part of me that will always feel frustration that I foiled Joshua's plan to treat his section to a FlaVorIce at break. But the bigger part of me is grateful for and blessed by his forgiveness and grace.

When's the last time you got a visit from your friend Grace?

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Focus On What Matters

This afternoon I took the stage in front of 120 National Honor Society inductees and their parents and, as it would turn out, I was quite nervous. Since I don't do a lot of speaking locally, something about today made it a bit more challenging for me. I knew exactly what I wanted to say and I got there early enough to allow for a little prayer time. Maybe it's because there were so many parents in the audience, 'cause I took the mic from the podium and made a bee-line to where I'm most comfortable, in front of the kids. 

I told them that seeing them walk in with candles served as such a nice metaphor for the beacon of light in this dark world that they already are and that they've been called to be. I congratulated them for not only their academic scholarship, but their service, their leadership, and their character, also known as the soft success skills that will take them where they want to go. I told them I was proud of them and that even though there was a Packer game going on right then {I've learned to throw in a touch of humor to engage my audience and put them at ease!}, that there was no place that I'd rather be than right there, celebrating with them. 

Anything is possible, I said, as I shared the story of how I ended up a Wisconsin farmer's daughter teaching Spanish at Friendswood High School some thirty years ago. I told them it took persistence and perseverance, maybe even a little begging, to even get an interview in a school district where everyone wanted to work. And, I told them, in the end, doors opened up because of my soft skills ... that, and the fact that I reminded that Principal of his daughter. Sometimes it's all about connections. In the end, I told them, it won't be that laminated NHS card that matters or sets them apart. In the end, it'll be relationships that matter.

Click graphic for source.

So, what's next? I asked, before suggesting that they answer these three questions as they diligently move toward their destination: 
Who am I? 
Where am I going? 
How will I get there? 
And then I reminded them that they get to choose who they are. Every day. And they get to decide where they're going. Every day. And since counselors are kind of like a GPS, I brought five key suggestions for a successful journey down life's highway. Here now, notes from the rest of my talk:

Character is about living life guided by your core values; it's who you are when nobody's looking and especially when life gets messy and hard. Michael Josephson suggests we think about what we want people to say at our funeral and live life backward. Here are five things that you might want to remember as you move forward down the road of life:

1. Unplug from that device and plug in to each other. You are living in a wonderful time of connectivity, but technology has a time and a place. It can be a blessing, but at the same time a burden. Please turn it off now and again and sharpen those soft skills with face-to-face interactions. Be present, in the moment. And please, please don't break up with someone or attempt other difficult conversations by text or email.

2. Listen to understand, not just to reply. Be an empathy hero, the kind of person that you need when life gets hard. Be the friend who gets it, who understands, who offers support, comfort, and unconditional love. Show up and befriend the new kid. Help someone who can't give you anything in return. Switch places with them, walk in their shoes. Try to figure out what you want or need if you were in their situation. Our strongest leaders lead 
with inspiration, empathy and enthusiasm.

3. Apologize and forgive. Ask yourself: How do I treat people when they mess up? I've heard it said that refusing to forgive someone is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. Life's too short to let that anger live rent-free in your heart. So when they apologize, please say, "I forgive you" or "I accept your apology." Steer clear of saying, "It's okay" because you don't want to send the wrong message that you condone that behavior. And when you're the one who has messed up, simply say, "I did it. I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Choices have consequences; take responsibility for your actions.

4. Show grace and gratitude. In all things. Rockin' gratitude is easy when things are going along smoothly. But when I was hit head-on two years ago yesterday, I learned the hard way that it was gratitude that would get me through a very dark and difficult time of healing and recovery. Gratitude picked me up off of Sunset, broken in three places physically and into a million tiny pieces emotionally and helped me keep going. Gratitude that it wasn't worse. So when life takes a detour or isn't quite working out as you'd hoped or planned, give thanks. Express your gratitude and remember to extend grace, unmerited favor, whenever possible. Oh, and it's always possible.
5. Live generously. Martin Luther King, Jr., whom we'll celebrate next week, said it best when he reminded us, "Life's most urgent and persistent question is, "What am I doing for others?" Have a servant heart that stands ready to help. To serve. To live generously. Acts of service don't have to be great to be grand. Serve with a smile and enjoy that helper's high. Be the kind of leader that you would follow. Choose kindness. Choose service. Choose joy. And let your light shine. Congratulations again. Cape up, crusade on, and know that our world is better because you're in it. 
****************************** 
So today I'm feeing grateful to have had that opportunity.
I'm also happy to have found this clip, which puts an exclamation point on the idea that we need to focus on what matters.

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Out of the Darkness

Yesterday I was in a Darkness to Light training,

and one of my takeaways was this:

I mess up. You mess up.

Your friends and family are going to mess up.

They are going to be unkind.

They might even be mean.

They'll disappoint you.

They'll let you down.

They'll frustrate you.

They'll anger you.

They'll lie to you,

steal from you,

break promises.

They'll embarrass you.

The best gift you can give yourself when this stuff {or worse} happens is to forgive them.

Got five minutes? 

Listen to what Leo Buscaglia has to say about this. 

I've heard it said that holding a grudge against someone

is like letting them live rent-free in your head.

What do you need to let go of,

and whom do you need to forgive 

to come out of the darkness

and give yourself that gift of peace?

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Deep In The Heart

My brother Mark is in Florida for a wedding,

and he posted this breathtaking shot of the beach.

It got me to thinking ...

... because it so beautifully complemented a 2009 trailer for 

The Heart of Texas 

that I saw for the first time this weekend. It was recommended to me in a newsletter from Tommy Spaulding and it intrigued me because of the its powerful message of forgiveness, grace, and tender mercy.

Forgiveness is as much about giving yourself the gift of peace as it is about wiping someone else's slate clean, isn't it? It feels like I'm finding that out at every turn lately. And then this clip comes to my inbox. I researched the story of Grove Norwood, whose four-year-old daughter Joy was killed in a hit-and-run accident and Ulice, the older gentleman who didn't even know he'd hit her, 

and now I can't wait to watch the movie.  

Accident or not, how does that father forgive the man who took his daughter's life, much less clothe him for the funeral, sit side-by-side in grief, and then rally the community to build him a home? WoW.

And yet, it's what people of character are called to do.

At our Shattered Dreams mock memorial service last month, Carla Buchinger told the story of how her 18-year-old son was killed in a drunk-driving incident at the hand of his best friend who was at the wheel. Four teenagers died; the driver survived. It's been fourteen years, and she still cries for them and misses them like crazy. Yet, not only has she forgiven that young man, but she had made friends with him. Adopted him as a family member even. 

Just like Grove did with Ulice. 

Two strong examples of how forgiveness is supposed to work,

 deep in the heart. 

I know that their stories inspire finding that kind of forgiveness in mine. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a few fences to mend ...

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Restitution & Restoration

Today I woke up thinking about forgiveness,

possibly because this is an important week for me and probably because 
this story seared such an imprint on my heart yesterday. A fire fighter falls asleep at the wheel after a long day's work and he crosses the center line, colliding with and killing a young mom and her unborn baby boy. How does her husband go on, much less forgive? 

The journey of faith, forgiveness, and friendship between these two men who met by accident under what would seem like unforgivable circumstances will at once astound and inspire you. I find myself so, so grateful that they so willingly and candidly shared it.

Forgiveness is one of those rare things that ends up being as much of a gift to you as to the person you gave it to. Anger, disappointment, sadness, resentment ... those things all try to talk us into holding on to that grudge and saying "No, I won't forgive them. They don't deserve it." We might even think, "Why bother to forgive them? It won't change what happened."

And guess what? Both of those things might very well be true. But at the end of the day, what do we deserve, really? And while forgiveness can't change what happened, it can totally change what will happen. In both lives. Try it and see.

But don't let forgiveness and accountability blur in your mind. We can forgive and still hold people accountable for their choices. That's the idea behind restorative justice. While we may not be able to change what happened, we must always accept responsibility and make amends as we work toward restitution and restoration.

Need some forgiveness ideas?

Click {here} for the Potato Sack metaphor.
Click {here} for games from Creative Youth Ideas.
Click {here} for my PPBF review of The Forgiveness Garden.

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Blessings Boomerang Back

A Thought (and a Tissue!) for a Thursday:

Thank you, Karma Tube, 

for this beautiful reminder that 

blessings boomerang back.

Video from KarmaTube

There's an empathy paper from the Sanford Harmony Program that would complement this clip nicely. Click {here} and scroll down a bit to download Empathy and Critical Thinking.
Then visit {here} for an excellent empathy lesson idea.

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PPBF: The Forgiveness Garden

My pick for today's PPBF is a predictable yet poignant tale that resembles the feud between the Hatfields and McCoys and/or the Capulets and the Montagues, take your pick. The added bonus is the garden of forgiveness idea.

Title: The Forgiveness Garden
Author: Lauren Thompson
Illustrator: Christy Hale
Publisher: Feiwel and Friends
Date:  October 30, 2012
Suitable for ages: 4 and up
Themes: feelings, hatred, forgiveness, peace
Brief synopsis: A boy threw a rock across a stream and hit a girl. Their families had hated one another for years and this act was fuel for their fire. As the villagers plot their revenge, what if the girl decides not to get revenge?
Opening page: There was a valley, and through the valley ran a stream. The village of Vayam stood on one side, and the village of Gamte stood on the other. 

There was no peace in the valley. For the two villages had hated each other for a long, long time.

Resources:
Flip through the pages of the book at the MacMillan website {here}
Discover what Wikipedia says about The Garden of Forgiveness {here}
Read a review at the New York Journal of Books site {here}

Why I like this book: 
1.  The realism. From the book cover:  A long time ago and far away - although it could be here, and it could be now - a boy threw a stone and injured a girl.  Students can compare this tale of two feuding families to a real-life situation from their own lives, from current-day experiences, or from something they've seen on television or in the movies.
2.  A built-in cultural lesson. The names in the story are from the Sanskrit language. Encourage your students to research this ancient language and the associated writings. Add some geography and look up Lebanon on a map.
3. A chance to talk about the gift of forgiveness, not only for the person who receives the forgiveness but for one who forgives.  
4. The garden. Discuss not just the metaphor for a forgiveness garden, but also the possibility and potential peace that might come with planting a real Garden of Forgiveness like the one in Beirut, Lebanon.
5.  The feelings. Angry words flew across the stream. Then stones. Talk with your students about better ways to manage anger than throwing stones or getting revenge. 
6. Its open-endedness. What do you think they said? I used the book in a counseling session with a second grader who's at odds with her mom, and when she answered that question, it sounded just like she'd put herself into the ending. (And for the record, she predicted that the boy and girl would get married on page two ....  love it!) I predict it'll be a great springboard for a discussion or an essay.

Oh, and click the Kindness Countdown calendar below to go to my guest post at The Teachers Lounge and get an idea to help kids work on making kindness a habit this month.

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Lorenzo's Gift

____________________________

And now for the rest of the story. On Wednesday I promised that there was a story coming, because sometimes I wonder if the students in the earlier part of my career got ripped off. I think I can safely say that that happened to Lorenzo. This story has been one that I've needed a week to reflect on before sharing it. It's so weird; I hadn't thought about him in 22 years and this week I can't stop thinking about him. I'm not sure that I've totally digested it myself, but here goes; my son Jacob suggested the pithy title: 

Catharsis Over Queso

After much debate about where to take Jacob for Mexican food the night before he went to Germany for a few weeks, Luna's won out because it's close by and we had a church bulletin which means a ten-percent discount. Anyway, we were enjoying queso and chips while perusing the menu when this man comes to the table and asks what my name is. He explains that he's pretty sure I used to teach at FHS and goes on to say, "I think I was your worst student." Well, "that couldn't be right," I was thinking as my mind flashed instantly back to Hector (click here to remember his story). He told us that he was a 1990 graduate and that he'd caused a lot of trouble in high school, so much, in fact, that I'd kicked him out of my class and made him take Spanish from the teacher down the hall. He said his name was Lorenzo.  

As I tried to remember a Lorenzo and figure out WHY I would have possibly kicked this kid out of my class, I quickly apologize for not doing more to connect with him. He shrugs off my apology and he adds that I'd be glad to know he'd turned his life around and graduated from Texas A & M. He says he's in town visiting his mom and I introduce him to Kaitlyn and tell him that she's a student at UT.  They greet one another, and that's when he says he wants to buy our dinner to make up for how horrible he'd been. He asks John how much he thinks it'll cost and John replies that we're pretty much a $50.00 family of five. So Lorenzo puts $50 cash on the table and says again that he can still see the frustration on my face and he was sorry for all of the trouble he caused. Then, Lorenzo walked off.

I wanted to know more, to remember his story more clearly, to understand what made me do what I did. I see his mom, who was waiting for him at the cash register behind us and, when we make eye contact, she comes over to me. I tell her that I'm sorry I kicked him out of my class and that I hope I wasn't mean to him, and she smiled softly and said something like this: No, he doesn't want you to feel bad, that's not what this is about. When you walked in, he recognized you right away and he told me that you'd kicked him out of your class.  I asked him if he deserved it and he said yes. You disciplined him like we would have and I want you to know that he's a successful businessman because of teachers like you.

She was kind to imply that it was tough love, the reason I didn't let him stay in my class, and maybe it was. Or maybe I was just a young, inexperienced teacher, in over my head and out of tools to help a trouble-making teen. I feel sad that someone has believed for 22 years that he was my "worst student" and I totally wish I could change having given up on him . . .  I just cannot imagine that I thought sending a student to another class was any kind of viable or reasonable solution to his behavior challenges. 

So I've had to force myself to not get too caught up on what went wrong and focus on what went right, on the courage that it took Lorenzo to come to our table and make amends after all those years. I'm happy that he was able to go on to make better choices and do good things in his world. I feel fortunate that Lorenzo was able to forgive me for not finding a way to reach him and I am grateful to him for his generous gift of grace (especially powerful because my own children got to witness it) and some great grub. 

For the record, I find it comically coincidental that all of this happened at a Mexican restaurant. 
And today I know, without a doubt, that you just. never. know. 

3

Forgiveness On The Fifty

Yard line, that is. That's where this story takes place, but it's not where this story starts. 

Find a way back to 1986. No computers. No Internet. No cell phones. How much of what were you doing that year do you really remember? I’d just been hired to teach Spanish and do some coaching at Friendswood High School. It's my third job in three years so I really want it to work out! I’m coaching freshman volleyball before school, teaching six sections of Spanish during the day, and sponsoring the Speech and Debate team in the afternoons, so I’m pretty busy. But it’s going really, really well, even better than I had hoped. I've made some new friends, my VB team is winning, and I like my classes. In fact, it’d almost be perfect, except for that one student whom I’ll call D.

    
Everything I know about what doesn't work with kids, I learned from D. His behaviors challenged me; I found him really difficult disrespectful challenging rude obnoxious. I tried everything. I tried being nice to him, well, kind of, as best I knew how. I tried incentives. I tried wishing him out of my class. I tried getting him a schedule change. Nothing worked. I called my dad one night a few days weeks into the school year, and found myself complaining about D. When I told him in no uncertain terms that my classes would be perfect if not for D, my father told me that that even if D were to drop my class, there’d always be another D. He surmised that someone else would likely become my least favorite student and suggested that I find something to like about him. Again, I tried. His sister was on my freshman volleyball team and I like her – does that count? I liked his mom (a lot!) when I met her at Open House – is that good? Sadly, I never found a way to make peace with, to get along with, or even to remotely like that student. It was a long year for both of us.

If you’ve heard me speak, then you may already know what's about to happen. As I reflect on 25 years as an educator, I realize that if I could have one do-over, it would be to find a way to make it work with D.  It’d probably be as simple as simply being nicer to him.  If I’ve told this story once, I’ve told it a hundred times. The point?  Find a way to like your students, to make each one of them your favorite. Individualize. Differentiate. Make. It. Work. Because there are no do-overs, not in school, not in life.  So, to get back to the fifty-yard line in my story’s title, we have to flash forward twenty years.
  

Now that my daughter's in high school, I've returned to FHS as a Band Mom. It has been 15 years since I’ve even been to Mustang stadium, way back when I taught Spanish there, before I became a counselor. I was attending the Friday night football game during Kaitlyn's freshman year that just happened to be Homecoming. At halftime, we hear over the loud speaker that those of us who were working at FHS in 1988 are invited to meet the graduates who came home for the reunion on the fifty-yard line for a photo opp. My husband elbows me and encourages me to go down onto the field. I hesitate, because I can’t even remember who was in that class, but with prodding, I reluctantly head that way. I see a few friendly faces, students who actually live here as adults and whose children attend my school, but mostly I don’t recognize very many of these now thirty-eight-year-olds.
   

As I float from circle to circle, I do see a group of boys men that I know. One of them only looks vaguely familiar, and all I can come up with is Hector. Since I always called my students by their chosen Spanish name, that’s what I called him as I said hello to this very tall man. Hector? He laughed and said, “Dude, it’s me, D!”  There. He. Was. A million things went through my mind at warp speed. I'd said over and over again that I'd regretted how I treated D. I said I was going to apologize to him if I ever see him again, and, after all these years, this was my chance to make it right. So right there, on the fifty-yard line, before I could talk myself out of it, I extended my hand to shake his and heard myself say this: “Oh, D, I think I owe you an apology. I wasn’t very nice to you when you were in my class.” He interrupted. “Dude, it was my bad. I was a s**t back then.” “Be that as it may (wink, wink),” I continued. “I was your teacher and I should have found a way to make it work. Please forgive me.” 

I'm pretty sure I heard him whisper something about turning out okay, and we went our separate ways.   

As I reflect, it was awkwardly amazing to finally get the chance to apologize. I’d been regretting how I treated him for more than twenty years and it felt great to make amends. It was unbelievably liberating to be able to ask that student for forgiveness on the fifty; in a weird way, it may have even been better than that elusive do-over I knew I could never get.

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The Kindness Boomerang

Kindness is such a hard thing to give away because, like a boomerang, it always comes back.

   Take my sister, Debra, for example. She’s one of the kindest people I know. She makes friends so easily and is always there to lend a helping hand.  She’s the kind of person who always leaves a thank-you note on your pillow after a stay at your house or sends flowers to express her gratitude for something you've done. Her greatest gift recently was walking her late-neighbor’s elderly son, Bill, through his last few years and ultimately his last days of life. Somewhat socially awkward, Bill had a true friend in Debra. She took excellent care of him and she misses him every day now that he’s gone. Still working to settle his estate, Debra has frequent reminders of Bill.  But, in an interesting twist of fate, their roles have kind of reversed this week and he’s become her guardian angel, God’s right hand, maybe even St. Anthony's helper, taking care of her. Here’s an abbreviated excerpt from Debra’s story the morning after her purse was snatched:

   The first thing I did yesterday was call Bill’s personal banker; his name is Chris and he has been very good to both Bill and me since January. I told him about my misfortune and he was able to put a stop payment on the remaining checks that were in my purse. I then called the State treasurer and asked them to cancel that check of Bill’s that I hadn’t deposited yet, and although they were very kind and sympathetic to my plight, they could do nothing for 30 days.

    Throughout the day I had waves of anxiety mixed with hope. Would my purse be sitting on my porch when I got home?  Perhaps they would be plagued by pangs of remorse and bring it back. That happened to my sister once, the thief actually mailed the contents of her wallet to her house, but by then she had replaced everything of course. I do not and have not lived in fear. I do not want to start now. With this in mind, I started to pray for the thief and kept on working.

    When I got home from work, I had two messages, one from the bank, the other from the police. Chris’ message said that a woman showed up at the bank attempting to cash a check written out to her from Bill for $500 from Bill’s account!!  Needless to say I quickly returned his call to get additional details. He told me that at the time she came in, he “just happened” to be walking behind the teller when he saw Bill's name on the check. He promptly stepped in and told the teller that he was Mr. Fairbanks’ personal banker and he would take care of it. He asked the woman how she knew Bill, and she told him that she had done some work for him and that he paid her, blah, blah, blah. He said that he played it cool and collected the check and her ID, assuring her that he simply needed to verify some details and he would be right back. He went into the vault and called the police. The long and short of it is that the police came, arrested her and the woman in the get-away car. He was able to talk directly to the police, tell them about his relationship with Bill and me, that Bill was deceased and that he talked to me just hours prior, that my purse had been stolen and I had canceled the checks. All very tidy.

   Let’s go back to the part where Chris “just happened” to be walking behind the teller and the exact time the woman was presenting the check and in that bank. As a personal banker, it’s not typical that he walks behind tellers. Hmmm . . .is it odd or is it God?  Chris said that they were pulling all sorts of stuff out of the car, but he didn’t know if my purse was in the car. By the time I called the police back, the officer assigned to the case was off duty and no one else could answer my questions. I will be able to call after 7 today. The anticipation is steep!

    God has a plan, perhaps to help this woman get to her bottom, perhaps to give a very good personal banker a fun and exciting day, or maybe to show me that I can find a treasure in every trial, that I do not have to crumble under adversity and that God continues to provide me with everything I need, purse or no purse.

   As a coincidental aside, Bill generously gave money to all sorts of religious organizations, so he still gets prayer cards, medallions, rosaries and things like that in the mail with donation requests daily. Several of these have centered around St. Anthony, patron saint of lost and stolen articles, so Debra’s been praying these St. Anthony prayers, not cause she believes in it, necessarily, but just as another way to keep Bill’s memory alive. So we’re pretty sure that Bill is watching over her to somehow repay her kindness.

   Yesterday, Debra got a call from a bartender down the street who actually found her half-empty purse. As you can imagine, she’s gushing with gratitude and just plain joyful about being reunited with some of her stuff. And on her agenda today? To take a box of gourmet chocolates along with hand-written thank-you notes to a conscientious personal banker and the honest fella who helped her purse find its way home.  The kindness continues.

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