My church when I was growing up.
A church sanctuary represents faith, peace, love, friends, gratitude, and family to me. I still have such vivid and happy memories of the church my family attended when I was growing up. Even though it was one of the largest churches in town, I felt like I knew everyone. How truly wonderful I felt when I was that building…a building full of incredibly special places.
Even before I reached the sanctuary on Sunday mornings, I was always warmly invited into the education building. It was newly built during my childhood…I don’t recall what year. I will check on the information…just to satisfy my curiosity. I say education building because it was the building where all of the children’s and youth Sunday School classes were held. Perhaps there were also adult classes in the education building. I was not even aware of them…I was so focused on the classes for whatever age I happened to be.
After my years teaching school, I now realize what made the difference…what made me focus…what made me so happy to be there. It was the sense of community that I felt and the fact that I felt appreciated by everyone I met. It was the sense of family…my own family and the church members who I considered like family. Could it be that unsuccessful schools lack this same sense of community, sense of family, and appreciation for each child? Is that why so many children can’t seem to focus? I think that this might be one of the missing keys in education. Just thinking beyond the prompt.
In considering keys in church education, I am reminded to the other key aspects of why I loved my “growing up” church….the children’s chapel with small pews just the right size, the sinks and water fountain that were just low enough, the beautiful garden areas, the fellowship hall where we had pot luck dinners on Wednesday nights, the choir practice room. And most of all…the sanctuary.
The sanctuary was large with towering ceilings and the most beautiful stained glass windows and a big balcony where the teenagers sat. The center aisle was very long and I remember walking down that aisle during children’s choir Christmas programs. We all held real candles that were lit and my mother was always so worried about my pony tail! What if the child behind me got a little too close? I doubt they use real candles today! I remember thinking that I would be so tired after walking down that long aisle. I thought that I might not have any breath left to sing!
Walking down that long aisle for children’s choir was nothing compared to how I felt when I walked down that same aisle with my dad on my wedding day. I saw my mom sitting on the front row smiling so happily and crying at the same time. I saw my future husband standing at the front with the minister. Once again my breath was taken away. I will never forget the relatives and friends who filled the pews. I can still see their smiles. I can still see the flowers that decorated the sanctuary. I can still hear the songs that were sung. I can still hear the minister’s voice and the words he said. I remember walking back down the aisle holding my husband’s arm. I remember it all with joy. I so love that sanctuary and all of the many times that I happily spent there…among the people I loved.
My husband and I will celebrate 40 years of marriage in just twelve days. I will remember my wedding dress, the bridesmaids, the groomsmen, my little cousin-the flower girl, my two little nephews-the ring bearers. I will remember what that sanctuary means to me…what it means to my husband and I.
Our son-in-law and friends riding in one of the pastures.
My husband grew up on a farm. It is about 2 1/2 hours from where we live and we are there a lot. When my husband was growing up, his dad ran a dairy farm and milked cows morning and night…seven days a week. There is not very much vacation time with this kind of work. Word has it that they went on a vacation just one time and my father-in-law was ready to go home before they reached the highway. I am not sure if this “ready to go home” information is just a rumor or not, but I do know that when your livelihood depends on healthy animals…you need to make certain that you take excellent and continuous care of them. I doubt that I would have that kind of resolve and patience.
Actually, I know that I would not want to be a dairy farmer. My husband does not want to turn the farm back into a dairy and I really do not want to! I like to go places, seek adventure, and meet new people far too much to have lots of cows to tend. Two or three Longhorns (Hook ’em Horns!)…ok. Some big Brahmas…ok…I think that they are interesting looking. Some of those miniature donkeys…ok…they are exceptionally cute. Just enough animals to still give us some freedom. Freedom to live in a regular neighborhood sometimes and travel sometimes.
I grew up in a regular neighborhood in just a regular town…not a city, not that big. My mother and I did drive to Dallas a couple of times a month to shop. We were certainly not shopping for cows. We were on the search for clothes and shoes. It didn’t matter how long the drive took…we went to Dallas. We ate lunch at the S & S Tearoom almost every time. I think that it is closed now. If not at the S & S, we would have lunch at Neiman’s Mermaid Bar Cafe to have chicken salad sandwiches on cheese buns. I still like to go there. We also had Mocha Coffee Angel Food Cake for dessert. I finally found the recipe or one very close to the original. Seriously, this might be the best cake ever. I am desperate for a piece of cake right now!
My entire point of this post is to say that I have just retired and my husband is about to retire. We have lived in a large city for almost 40 years. I really don’t see how that is possible. In my mind, I am still 27, maybe 28. Anyway, I like the city just like I did when I was a child. My husband likes the farm just like he did when he was a child. I think that we should divide our time between both places. A compromise.
What is your opinion? City? Farm?
Divide our time between both?
Written by Pat Davis on my blog kindergartenknowledge.com
Thank you to Ngobesing Romanus from Success Inspirer’s World for asking me to be a guest author!
One of the trails thru the woods.
Places to go and errands to complete took up my entire afternoon yesterday. I rarely turn on my radio in my car when I am busy. I think that I’ve heard so much talking, laughing, feet tapping, hands clapping, and chairs moving that I need a bit of quiet time in my car when I am going to school. Now…I just don’t listen to the radio at all, at any time. I knew nothing about the very sad incident in France until I was almost home. My husband called to tell me the news.
Again. The images of another nightmare filled the news programs. The pictures were so vivid, so real, so much destruction of life. A baby carriage. People running every direction. Two older ladies in white clothing trying to step off of a curb. At least, that is what it looks like they are doing. One looked like she was holding the other one. Were they hurt? Where did they go? I’ve seen the image repeated several times on the news. Those two older ladies and their obvious and extreme panic are staying on my mind. I doubt that they could run quickly or possibly not run at all. I find myself worrying about them.
But…what good does my worrying do? It does not help in any way. All I can do is to make certain that I do what is right in my own part of the world. All I can do is to make certain that I read and study enough to understand what is going on. All I can do is to make safe choices as well as honorable choices. All I can do is to continue to seek peace.
Peace. Not nightmares. Again I say…Let There Be Peace On Earth And Let It Begin With Me.
Daily Prompt: Cowardice
When I consider the traits of a coward, I first think of someone who is afraid to be show their true self to the world. They simply have not been able to find a way to give positively back to the world. To me… a coward covers up the true motive in every movement, in every conversation, in every relationship. Would I trust a coward? Never. Would I be close friends with a coward? No. Would I want to work for or with a coward? Not particularly.
When I consider the traits of a confident person, I first think of someone who is certain about who they are and what they want to give to the world. To me…a confident person attempts to open up in every conversation. They have a strong sense of perseverance in their personal lives and in their professional lives. Would I trust a confident person? Yes. Would I be close friends with a confident person? Most definitely. Would I want to work for or with a confident person? Very much so.
On the other hand, I realize that people may feel like a coward one day and a confident person the next day. One of the most important goals in life…at least to me…is to find a way to seek the route with the strongest sense of determination mixed with understanding, honesty and kindness. There comes a times when you need to leave the coward behind and move forward with confidence.
Life is filled with such quandary. Always choices.
Performed by the Texas Girls’ Choir, Little Traverse Youth Choir, Native American Hoop Dancers, Wattana Wittaya Girls Academy Choir, Tucson Boys Chorus Ensemble. Directed by Heather Marvin and accompanied by my friend, Layne Trent. Our daughter became a member of the Texas Girls’ Choir at age eight and remained a choir girl for a wonderful 7 1/2 years.
Thank you to Ngobesing Romanus for asking me to be a guest author on Success Inspirer’s World. I sincerely appreciate his generosity.
My blog on WordPress can be found at https://kindergartenknowledge.com
Thank you for reading!!
In so many ways, peace has escaped our grasp three weeks ago, two weeks ago, last week, this week…today. As the news unfolded that night in Dallas, morning in Baton Rouge…we were at first distressed and saddened and shocked …just as we had seen in those other cities. Why? How? What can we do? Peace is illusive. The words to the song are hopeful, strong, so needed in our world…
“Let there be peace on Earth…
and let it begin with me”
One person at a time, one step at a time, one child at a time. I truly believe in one way that can often reach the unreachable child…a small step in perhaps keeping that child from desperate choices later in life.
I’ve found that if children are given the opportunity, they will embrace MUSIC with every facet of their energy…with every facet of their imagination. Children can dance with joyous abandon and can sing with fears abandoned. MUSIC can be a child’s pathway to understanding the world and how to face this world with the ability to communicate positively. I’ve seen MUSIC change the life of a sad child so many, many times.
A quote from an unknown author…
I. Music is a Science.
II. Music is Mathematical
III. Music is a Foreign Language
IV. Music is History
V. Music is Physical Education
VI. Music Develops Insight and Demands Research
VII. Music is all these, but most of all…
Music is Art.
That is why we teach music. Not because we expect you to major in music. Not because we expect you to play or sing all your life. But so you will be human. So you will recognize beauty. So you will be closer to an infinite beyond this world. So you will have something to cling to. So you will have more love, more compassion, more gentleness, more good. In short…more life.
As I read the quote again, I am thinking about all of the children that I have taught. What do the children remember the most from school…particularly in Early Childhood. They remember the songs we sing, the way we sit or stand when we sing, the meaning of the words or phrases, the beautiful melodies.
The children remember being part of something more important than themselves. They are a part of a song…a part of MUSIC. The discipline that they learn through the melodies they learn, the inspirational lyrics that they learn, and the rhythms that they practice are not easily forgotten. MUSIC is truly something compelling to learn.
One person at a time, one step at a time, one child at a time. Just a thought…
“Let there be peace on Earth…
and let it begin with me”
Last April, I was attacked by Chile con Queso in the teacher’s lounge at my school. I realize that the teacher’s lounge is widely regarded as a gathering place for gossip and complaining. I mean…where else are we going to vent? There are not many places to just talk…especially in schools nowadays. There are security cameras just about everywhere and videos of entrances continuously streamed onto monitors. Certainly, I am thankful for the safety factors. If only I had a security video of the exact moment that the Chile con Queso became my enemy.
It is such a sad situation to bring up…but the Chile con Queso popped up and down and around when I removed it from the not so good microwave (as compared to the other almost not so good microwave on the opposite side of the room). Actually I would call this incident the ultimate queso explosion. There was only one other person in the lounge with me when the incident happened and she was on the phone. At least, she did scream and get off the phone.
Thank goodness she was there to help me with the countless paper towels we used to clean up the mess. We were working on the queso on the carpet when my two usual lunch-mates (a very weird word) arrived. “What in the world happened to you?”…I wasn’t worried about me yet. It was the floor and the ceiling and the window queso that was needing attention.
My friends were staring with shocked faces at me. That is when I realized that my face felt like I had been in the desert for three days in 115 degree weather. I ran to the sink and splashed water on my face and on my hands (which now felt just like my face). Pain. Real pain.
In the midst of my pain, they started laughing because of my horribly messy appearance…which made me laugh. When I looked in the mirror, all I could see was cheese everywhere…particularly in my hair. I still had bits of cheese in my hair four days later…no matter how many times I washed it. My lunch was ruined and they could not eat much lunch because of the hysteria. I finally did go and pick up my class at almost the right time.
“Why are you wearing your lunch?”, “Why did you make your face turn red?”, “Maybe you should color your hair to look like cheese. It’s a really pretty color now!” My assistant took the children back to the classroom and I went to visit the school nurse. She was really concerned and said that my face was looking “bad, bad”. I know that I felt “bad, bad”. I stayed until school was out, but I held an ice pack to my face all afternoon. The children were really totally fascinated by my injury. They decided that I most likely punched all of the wrong numbers into the microwave… maybe like three minutes instead of one minute. I guess I did, but I would rather put the blame on the microwave.
I went to the doctor immediately after school…first and second degree burns on my chin, on the left side of my face, and just to the side of my right eye. I can still see the scars, but can cover them with make-up. My hands were not hurt. Warning: microwaves are sometimes very vicious characters. Or… sometimes people make really crazy mistakes. I have yet to have Chile con Queso again.
Maybe I will have some on the 4th of July!