Mac High Bulletin Board

[lyn henley]

Oh, thank you for posting that. Ever since I saw that lovely, young woman speak at the plaque dedication, I wanted to hear or read the piece she did on bra shopping. It was excellent - thanks!!
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Lyn Brown (74)

[Viv Chandler Bruce]

Meghen will be delighted to hear you liked it, Lynn. I'm hopeful that we'll soon have permission to reprint Mrs. Hanna's and Mr. Clark's presentations also.

What a shame we didn't meet after all these years of Mac chatter...!
Viv
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Viv '65

[Viv Chandler Bruce]

We have a new writer in our midst...and he lives in CANADA!

John Stevens has graciously given me permission to reprint a piece of his work on this site. Welcome John, multi kudos and thank you! -V


The Corsage

"You've got to help me!" My friend pleaded with me. "You've got to take this girl to her sorority event." This girl was getting interested in my friend, an interest he didn't want to grow. While I was reluctant to get involved in this mess he had created, he was a good friend. I consented to this blind date.

He certainly sold me on her. Her sister had been Miss Edmonton the previous year. She belonged to this sorority that all the kids of rich people belonged to. I, on the other hand, had only $20 to my name. With about half of my life savings, I decided to buy a corsage for my date.

I arrived at her home dressed in my only suit, corsage in my hand. The door opened and I saw that she was beautiful. I also saw that her dress had very thin straps. There was no place to put a corsage. I also saw the funny look on her face that said she would have never worn what represented half of my worldly riches anyway.

I also noticed that her leg was bandaged. She had injured herself skiing that afternoon. What else could go wrong? Plenty.

I escorted her to my chariot, a red Toyota pick-up truck with a canopy camper on the back. That was my vehicle then. From the look on her face, I wish that a fairy godmother could have come along and turned it into a Mercedes. In spite of her sore leg, she insisted that we park a couple of blocks away from the party.

We entered and I was briefly introduced to a couple of people, then she sort of disappeared. I wasn't too disappointed. I hadn't had a good meal in a long time and the food here was plentiful and tasty.

What a party it was! The children of the rich and famous of Edmonton were there. People kept coming up to me and asking what I was "into," instead of what I did. I answered that I was "into" education, since I was taking my Bachelor of Education at the time. I wondered if these rich people really knew how poor I was.

I'm glad I am a fast eater, because a half an hour after our arrival, my date, whom I had barely seen, came back and asked to be taken home. Her leg was aching too much, though she declined my offer to bring the truck to the front door. I still have a hunch that she got rid of me to return to the party. My feelings weren't hurt. I had eaten well, although the friend who set this up was going to hear about this.

I dropped her off. She made sure I didn't walk her to the door, but I did the unthinkable. I asked for the corsage back. Why? Was I out of my mind?

No. I had a second blind date a couple of nights later. A girls' group was having a father-daughter banquet. A friend had asked me if I would be the father for a night for a young girl who didn't have one. This way she would be less embarrassed at the event. Even though I didn't know what I was getting into, I told my friend that I would do it.

The night of the second blind date came. You know what? I was more nervous meeting this ten year old than the sister of Miss Edmonton. What if she didn't like me? What if she was ashamed to be with me?

Then she came through the door. I was introduced, and then I showed her the corsage. Her eyes grew like saucers. She trembled with joy as I pinned it on her. While she was the only one without a real dad, she was also the only one with a beautiful corsage. She held her head up high as we walked into the room. We had a great time. It was wonderful seeing her smile and hearing her laughter. I think she was proud to have a special friend like me. I certainly was proud of her, just like a dad would have been.

It was the same corsage. In one person's eyes it was worthless. In another's it was priceless. Every one of us has a gift. You know what? In some people's eyes, it will be worthless. Ignore them. I can assure you that if you meet enough people you will discover somebody who finds your gift priceless.

John Stevens

John Stevens is a freelance writer in St. Marys, Ontario. You can read more of his writing at his blog at http://johnnyvfanclub.blogspot.com or send John an email to: john.stevens@rogers.com
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Viv '65

[Viv Chandler Bruce]

Helen Teague has written a moving story with a life's lesson that, because of my nursing background, struck a chord. Her lesson reaches far beyond the bedside and to the very root of humanity. Thank you Helen for giving us the nod to post on our site!

I Will Be Your Left Side

Upcoming holidays often include plans to return home. Since I live close to my parent's home I have this option frequently. Sometimes when I return home I regressed to my youngest child birth order. With the regression brings a return to the typical youngest child behavior of eavesdropping.

I learn a lot from eavesdropping. I hope you do too. Occasionally, conversations are mundane and routine. But, then there is the mother lode of juicy pieces of information, not yet ready for full broadcast. These conversations are more fun than a midnight sale at Nordstrom.

Recently I overheard a conversation between my dad and his caregiver, Sonny.

My dad is on year three of his stroke rehabilitation. His series of strokes left his left-side in a sleepy, limited-functioning state. This requires him to submit to help with moving, transitioning, dressing, bathing, anything that you or I would do with our left side, he must rely on a caregiver to help him do. One day was particularly difficult. Arms and legs were not acting in concert but as free agents. It was during this day, that I overheard Sonny, tell Dad something indeed worth eavesdropping to hear.

Sonny said, "Don't worry, Bill, I will be your left side today."

I do not know what else followed in their conversation. I was lost in thoughts of gratitude for Sonny and his expression of care.

"Don't worry; I will be your left side today."

Sonny didn't say, "Help me out, you can do more." He knew Dad was doing all he could do. Sonny didn't give up in frustration. He persevered. He did not say, "Lean on me and I will do it all." He preserved Dad's dignity and worth. Sonny saw what needed to be done and did it, assuring Dad that he was there as support.

Have you offered anyone your left side? I mean, really offered with the intent to follow-through? This is tough for me because I am the spokesperson for the club with the title, "If I Can Do Anything, Just Let Me Know." I reached this position after years of membership in the "Happy to Help in Anyway I Can" association. To turn intention into action is the balance I seek.

Sonny turned intention into action. He was acutely aware of another's needs. He served that day and continues today to serve as a left-side. What a goal and a gift! This holiday season, I wish for you to find ways to be another's "left-side," for a minute, an hour, or a lifetime. And, I wish that you will experience the best of the season from all sides!

Helen Teague

Helen's father, Dr. William J. Teague lives in Abilene, Texas. Helen is a teacher and consultant with OOPS: Our Overnight Planning System, an educational staff development firm for those interested in the life-long learning potential of students. Visit OOPS at: http://4oops.com or contact Helen by email at: helen@4oops.com
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Viv '65

[Viv Chandler Bruce]

This season can be a challenge for those who have lost a loved one and are braving it through. The following story, I believe, provides a small glimmer of light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. There is also a life's lesson entwined within its framework.

Thank you, Michael, for once again allowing us to reprint your work on our site.

Life is a Bag of Frozen Peas

A few weeks after my first wife, Georgia, was called to heaven, I was cooking dinner for my son and myself. For a vegetable, I decided on frozen peas. As I was cutting open the bag, it slipped from my hands and crashed to the floor. The peas, like marbles, rolled everywhere. I tried to use a broom, but with each swipe the peas rolled across the kitchen, bounced off the wall on the other side and rolled in another direction.

My mental state at the time was fragile. Losing a spouse is an unbearable pain. I got on my hands and knees and pulled them into a pile to dispose of, I was half laughing and half crying as I collected them. I could see the humor in what happened, but it doesn't take much for a person dealing with grief to break down.

For the next week, every time I was in the kitchen, I would find a pea that had escaped my first cleanup. In a corner, behind a table leg, in the frays at the end of a mat, or hidden under a heater, they kept turning up. Eight months later I pulled out the refrigerator to clean, and found a dozen or so petrified peas hidden underneath.

At the time I found those few remaining peas, I was in a new relationship with a wonderful woman I met in a widow/widower support group. After we married, I was reminded of those peas under the refrigerator. I realized my life had been like that bag of frozen peas. It had shattered. My wife was gone. I was in a new city with a busy job and a son having trouble adjusting to his new surroundings and the loss of his mother. I was a wreck. I was a bag of spilled, frozen peas. My life had come apart and scattered.

When life gets you down; when everything you know comes apart; when you think you can never get through the tough times, remember, it is just a bag of scattered, frozen peas. The peas can be collected and life will move on. You will find all the peas. First the easy peas come together in a pile. You pick them up and start to move on. Later you will find the bigger and harder peas. When you pull it all together, life will be whole again.

The life you know can be scattered at any time. You will move on, but how fast you collect your peas depends on you. Will you keep scattering them around with a broom, or will you pick them up one-by-one and put your life back together?

Michael T. Smith

If you would like to email Michael, he can be reached at: mtsmith@qwestonline.com

To sign up for his stories go to:
http://visitor.constantcontact.com/d.jsp?m=1101828445578&p=oi



If you would like to email Michael, he can be reached at: mtsmith@qwestonline.com
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Viv '65

[Viv Chandler Bruce]

Don Barnes sent this to me today and it's too good to sit on...

The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life.

One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued, 'What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?'

He reminded the other dinner guests what they say about teachers: 'Those who can, do.. Those who can't, teach.'

To stress his point he said to another guest; 'You're a teacher, Bonnie. Be honest. What do you make?'

Bonnie, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied, 'You want to know what I make? (She paused for a second, and then began...)

'Well, I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.

I make a C+ feel like the Congressional Medal of Honor winner.

I make kids sit through 40 minutes of class time when their parents can't make them sit for 5 without an I Pod, Game Cube or movie rental.

You want to know what I make?' (She paused again and looked at each and every person at the table.)


I make kids wonder.

I make them question.

I make them apologize and mean it.

I make them have respect and take responsibility for their actions.

I teach them to write and then I make them write. Keyboarding isn't everything.

I make them read, read, read.

I make them show all their work in math. They use their God given brain, not the man-made calculator.

I make my students from other countries learn everything they need to know about English while preserving their unique cultural identity.

I make my classroom a place where all my students feel safe.

I make my students stand, placing their hand over their heart to say the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag, One Nation Under God, because we live in the United States of America.

Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts they were given, work hard, and follow their hearts, they can succeed in life.


(Bonnie paused one last time and then continued.)

'Then, when people try to judge me by what I make, with me knowing money isn't everything, I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because they are ignorant.... You want to know what I make?

I MAKE A DIFFERENCE. What do you make Mr. CEO?'

His jaw dropped, he went silent.
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Viv '65

[Viv Chandler Bruce]

I walk before breakfast and that means it's usually cold and dark - though becoming lighter these day, thank goodness. At about the half-way mark, when the muscles are starting to talk back, I turn on my CD player or iPod. Stories keep me going and I now look forward to the reward.

Stolen Lives - Twenty Years in a Desert Jail by Malika Oufkir grabbed me by the boot-straps and wouldn't let go. Here's the skinny: http://www.justicedenied.org/stolenlives.htm

Viv

P.S. It's wonderful to see some activity out there! Makes keeping this site going well worth the effort
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Viv '65

[Viv Chandler Bruce]

Thought some of you might enjoy navigating through the following web site. The stories are a gentle read -- sharp contrast to our daily dose of media reports.
http://www.txyellowrose.com/
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Viv '65

[Viv Chandler Bruce]

Several websites offer audiobook downloads. If the books are in the public domain, quite often they are free and read by volunteers. If you are really lucky, the volunteer has a voice that is well suited to the daunting task of reading for a large audience. For your your enjoyment give this site a try: http://www.loudlit.org/

Happy summer!
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Viv '65