Laura's Star - Epilogue

Epilogue

     Besides Laura and Sam, five other individuals perished in the December storm of 1989, one of them Joe’s highway rescuer.  It took Joe the better part of a year to heal from his physical wounds, and more time than that to heal emotionally.  He felt he could never forgive himself for Laura’s death.  He was angry at her at first for leaving the vehicle at all, but as the pieces of the story began to fill in through the usual channels of small town gossip and local police reports, Joe began to understand better the events of that awful night.  He came to the conclusion that it must have been Sam that had picked up Laura and the boys in an attempt to help them.  An autopsy had revealed that Sam had suffered a massive heart attack and that is probably why he went off the road and crashed into the field.  It must have been the glowing star on Sam’s barn that had drawn Laura towards his farmyard.  She had died trying to save them all.  Joe often wondered why she hadn’t left the boys in the car, out of the elements.  But of course, if she had, they would have perished too.  Somehow, she had known the right thing to do.  Gradually, his anger slowly melted into gratitude that in giving her own life, Laura had saved the lives of her sons. 

     Joe struggled with his anger at God.  Why hadn’t he prevented the terrible chain of events from occurring that night?  Why did he let their car gel up in the worst cold of the season?  Why had he let Joe be involved in a car accident, and why did Sam have to have a heart attack that night? 

     His anger and depression grew when Laura’s obstetrician had called him a week after Laura’s funeral and delivered the news that Laura had been eight weeks pregnant.  Joe cried for four days.  Cried for Laura who had died knowing another life would die with her.  Cried for the child he would never know.  And cried for himself that his family had been separated by death.

     But larger than all these was the anger he harbored against himself.  He had failed his family.  He left them in harm’s way and it had cost his wife and their unborn child their lives.  He could not bear the knowledge that his beautiful Laura had died cold and alone.  He could not forgive himself. These questions and thoughts raced round and round in Joe’s tormented mind until one night when he was reading in Laura’s dog-eared Bible.  He found a quote carefully copied there in Laura’s handwriting.  It was by the great 19^th century preacher, Charles Spurgeon.  It read, “God is too good to be unkind, and he is too wise to be mistaken.  And when we cannot trace his hand, we must trust his heart.”  A peace had washed over Joe at that moment, and he knew that he must let go of his anger and trust in the almighty wisdom of his Creator.  He still didn’t understand any of it, but he knew God did, and that was enough.

     Matthew and Coty were treated for minor frostbite injuries, but faired amazingly well and were soon their happy, sweet selves, although they could not comprehend why Mommy was still “sleeping in the snow” and didn’t come home with them.

     Joe eventually decided that living on the East Coast was pointless without Laura, so two years after the accident, he and his children moved back to North Dakota to be close to family.

    It was late evening when Joe approached the stretch of I-94 where his life had forever changed, and he felt a knot growing in the pit of his stomach.  Memories and waves of emotions welled up unbidden and he found himself pulling to the side of the road very near where their car and his wife had both died that fateful night.  Laying his head on the steering wheel, tears slid down his face and he felt it all come back in such a real way that the emotional pain was almost unbearable.  “Pretty star, Daddy,” Mattie’s voice exclaimed from the back seat.  Joe lifted his head and stared at his now four-year-old son.  Mattie was pointing off to the right.  Shining in the clear December night was the brightest star Joe had ever seen.  Its twinkling light winked and blinked so brightly that Joe was mesmerized.  “Mommy’s star,” Mattie’s finished with a whisper.  Suddenly Joe understood with clarity that Laura had not been alone that night.  The Sweet Presence of a Loving God had been with her till the end and then had ushered her into His brilliant presence.  Joe nodded silently as cleansing tears coursed down his face, and Hope began to push up tender shoots from deep within Joe’s battered heart.

The End

Laura's Star - Part IV

Part IV

     Joe searched the horizon frantically.  Dawn was just breaking and the landscape was filled with shadow and hallucination, but at least there was enough light to see a little bit.  He ignored the pounding pain radiating from every part of his broken body, but medical attention would have to wait.  He had refused treatment when he had regained consciousness in the emergency room until after he located his wife and children.  The medical staff argued in vain, and in the end, the head ER doctor had placed his arm in a splint, covered the gash in his head with butterfly bandages, and said he would be waiting for him when he was ready to be treated.

     The State Police had searched both directions for some sign of where Laura and the boys had disappeared to, but the heavy snow had covered all tracks, making it a difficult search, at best.

     They had now begun to take the exits off the highway one by one and someone had spotted Sam’s car off in the field, resting on its side.  The cruiser Joe now sat in was silent, save for the occasional crackle of the police radio.  Joe tried to look in every direction at once, but one eye was still swollen shut and the other eye burned with the strain, so he decided to just watch the side of the road the car had been discovered on.  Joe could make out a farmstead in the dim morning light, and suggested they stop there and ask questions.  “Won’t do any good.  That’s Sam’s place and he’s a widower.  Nobody there.  But we’ll drive into the yard and see if we see any sign that your wife was there.”  About a quarter mile from the farm, Joe was still scanning the horizon when he spotted a blue and white patch of fabric on the ground, nearly covered with snow.  It took a moment for the impact to register in Joe’s pain-soaked brain.  Laura’s parka!  “Hey, pull over!” Joe ordered.  Before the car had even slowed to a stop, Joe had the door open and was running wildly towards the familiar blue fabric, the two state troopers close behind.  Joe could hear one of them on his radio calling for emergency help.  Joe fell to ground beside the lump on the ground, his breath coming in ragged grunts, and brushed snow away, willing his family to be alive.  He yanked the coat away and saw bright blue eyes staring at him.  “Pitty star, Daddy,” Mattie whispered.  “Mommy’s star."

Laura's Star - Part III

 PART III

      The wipers worked furiously to keep pace with the fast descent of snow that now obliterated their view.  Her rescuer sat hunched in the driver’s seat, peering intently out, trying to make out the lines on the highway.  The road seemed to have vanished underneath a thick, white blanket.  “Where in the world did this come from?” Sam muttered under his breath.  Laura watched as the speedometer slowed to a crawl.  She knew her driver was dealing with a slick road, as well as poor visibility. 

     Matthew and Coty had stopped shivering, but she seemed incapable of stopping her shaking.  The boys had both fallen into a heavy sleep, for which she was grateful.  She looked for a mile marker in order to judge how far they had come and how far to go to get to Tower City.  There!  She spied one barely visible through the blowing snow, for now the wind had picked up as well.  She guessed they had come four miles or so. 

     Laura looked off in the distance trying to locate her star again.  She knew it was silly, but she wanted the reassurance of that twinkling light.  She wanted any reassurance at that moment.  She was grateful to have found warmth again and was glad none of them seemed to have suffered any permanent damage, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with Joe.  Her hand dropped lightly to her belly again.  “Oh, Joe.  You don’t even know yet.”

     Just then she thought she spotted a familiar twinkling light on the horizon.  She didn’t remember it being that low in the sky, but maybe she had forgotten its location.  The light became brighter with each passing moment, and soon she realized that the light was actually lights from some sort of emergency vehicle.  Her first reaction was to ask Sam to pull over and try to flag it down, but then an unthinkable horror sunk in.  Maybe Joe has been involved in an accident.  Maybe he’s hurt and lying by the road somewhere and the approaching lights are headed to him!

     Laura turned to tell Sam the awful thought she had just had, but something in the expression on Sam’s face stopped her.  He looked awful.  “Sam, are you alright?” Laura asked in alarm.  “It’s my ticker,” he said in a strained voice.  “I take nitroglycerin tablets for it, but I think I left my pills on the kitchen table.  I just refilled my prescription this morning.”  Laura was torn between wanting to follow the emergency lights, which now appeared to be sitting on top of a State Highway Patrol car, and wanting to get help for Sam.  Sam was speaking again, “if we take the next exit, my house is just two miles off the interstate”.  He finished apologetically, “I really need my pills.  This one hurts more than usual.”  “Of course, Sam,” was all Laura could think of to say.  The man needed his pills, plain and simple.  If Joe was injured and that police car was headed to him, then he was getting the help he needed.  She would just have to track him down later.  She didn’t let her mind go any further.  He was just injured.  Nothing that a good doctor couldn’t mend.  They took the next exit and began to slowly head towards Sam’s house.  The road was even more slick than the interstate and deep drifts had begun to pile up on the road, making travel hazardous.  It was hard to see anything, and Laura wondered how Sam knew they were still on the road.  She could only see white everywhere she looked.  The wind was howling mightily now and she could feel the dangerous cold even with the heat blasting on high. 

     But now Sam’s condition was beginning to frighten her.  Even in the dim light of the interior, she could see that he was sweating profusely and that his skin looked gray and drawn.  “Sam, I think you better pull over and let me drive the rest of the way,” Laura’s voice was commanding and controlled.  She could see Sam nod feebly and saw his hands on the wheel begin to steer the car to the side of the road, but the snow was deep and the shoulder imperceptible from the rest of the landscape.  “Sam, just stop here and I’ll come around to your…” Laura didn’t finish her sentence because Sam suddenly slumped forward and his foot must have pressed the accelerator down hard, for they were suddenly speeding into the ditch and bumping over uneven ground.  Laura saw a line of fence coming at them fast and screamed, but the car kept on its relentless path and crashed through the fence without slowing.  Laura tried frantically to grab the wheel away from the unconscious man’s hands, but with two children nestled against her, her attempts were clumsy at best.  “If I could just get his foot off the accelerator, we would at least be able to come to a stop eventually,” Laura thought, adrenalin pumping through her.  Laura clawed at his right leg, trying to grab a handful of fabric to lift his leg with, but her efforts seemed to make the car go even faster.  She grabbed for the gear shift to put it into neutral, but just then they must have hit a large field stone, for it felt as though the passenger side of the car became airborne and Laura grabbed for her babies and screamed with a power she didn’t know her lungs possessed. 

     They landed on the driver’s side doors and Laura felt herself land hard on Sam’s unconscious body, still clutching Coty, but she had lost her grip on Mattie and was afraid to find out where he had landed.  Coty began to wail lustily and Laura took that as a very good sign.  She felt as though she had been saved by landing on Sam’s body; nothing felt broken or out of place.  But where was Matthew?  Just then she heard Coty’s wails answered by Mattie’s, and it sounded like he had landed in the back seat.  With great effort, she pulled herself upright and called to him, “Mommy’s here, Mattie.  Can you find my hands?”  Mattie kept up his bawling, but she soon felt his little hands touching hers.  With relief and sobs, she pulled him over the back of the seat to her and hugged him tightly.  “Are you OK, Honey?”  He just nodded and kept crying, but less intensely now. 

     She turned her attention to Sam.  Still awkwardly positioned on top of him, she felt for his neck seeking a pulse.  She found a weak one, and breathed a prayer of thanks.  Now she knew the rest was up to her.  She was going to have to make it to his house and call for help.  The storm had picked up in intensity and visibility was nearly zero.  She debated if it would be wiser to leave the boys tucked in the car, but quickly discarded the idea.  They should be able to make the two miles in fairly quick time, even in the stormy weather.  And she knew in her heart of hearts, she just couldn’t leave them with all the unknown variables floating around out there.  After all, Joe was only going to be gone a short time, and look at all that had transpired.  No, they were going with her; end of debate. 

     She felt around until she had located their hats and gloves, but she could only find one of her gloves and Sam wasn’t wearing any.  “I guess he’s one of those tough North Dakotans that Joe’s always bragging about,” Laura thought vaguely.  Laura did find a thick lap blanket lying in the backseat and grabbed it.  After adjusting clothing as much as possible to keep the cold out, she whispered in Sam’s ear, “Hang in there, Sam.  I’ll be back with help as soon as I can.”  With that, she passed Mattie out of the front window, which was missing, then Coty, and finally pulled herself through. 

     The wind and cold instantly sucked the breath out of her.  “Oh God, how can I do this?  We’ll never survive!”  Unbelievably, the boys were not crying, even though she felt like it herself.  But time was essential here, and she couldn’t afford the luxury of self-pity.  They had to get moving!

     Laura stood up and testing her limbs to make sure everything was in working order, picked up Mattie and said to him, “Honey, we’re going to have an adventure.  We’re going on a hike and I need you to hold on to Mommy’s neck while we walk.”  Laura unzipped her parka and picked Mattie up, wrapped his legs around her waist and his arms around her neck, then zipped her coat again to keep them both warm.  Next she picked up Coty, laid him face down against her shoulder and tucked the blanket snuggly around his tiny body.  Then she prayed that God would go before them and get them to their destination.

     Laura began to walk, but the snow was already a foot deep in spots and added to the weight of the boys, Laura could hardly propel herself forward.  But she had no choice.  This was life or death, and there were too many lives counting on her to waiver in her duty.  Slowly, she gained ground and found herself back at the fence they had crashed through.  But she must be disoriented, because she could not find the spot they had opened up in the fence.  She decided to just follow it north for it was going in the same direction they were.  And besides, they were near enough to the road that when a car came along, it would see her. 

     On she walked, every muscle aching with fatigue, her breath coming hard with exertion.  It was so bitterly cold that her sinus cavity felt as though it had been vacuumed dry.  She couldn’t believe such an ungodly cold was possible.  She tried to speak to the boys to keep them calm, but finally gave up.  It was just too difficult.

     When they had walked for what seemed an eternity, Laura knew she needed a rest.  She sank to her knees and bowed her head against the driving snow.  “Dear God, I need some help here.  I think I’m walking in circles.  Surely, I must be close to Sam’s house but I can’t see it.  Please direct my steps for I am out of energy, I’m slipping into hypothermia, and I’m scared to death for the safety of my children.”  Laura slowly raised her head and nearly wept with relief.  Her star was back!  Whatever it was, it was twinkling and glowing like crazy, even in the impossible conditions of this weather.  “Mattie, look!  God sent a star to guide us.  We can find our way now.”  Laura shifted her body so that Mattie could see in the direction she was looking.  “Pitty star, Mommy.”  “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Laura assured him.  With great effort, she rose to her feet and began to follow the inviting light.  It was further in the distance than she had guessed, but the sight of it had given her new energy, and within another half hour, it was a bright beacon in their path.  As they got closer, she realized that some farmer had placed a giant star on the front of his barn, and that was what she had seen, even from miles away.  But nothing had ever looked so beautiful to her and she hastened to its light.  As she got closer, she could see that there was also a large farmhouse in the yard and several out buildings, but the only visible lights were a yard light on a utility pole and the star on the barn.  The place looked deserted at the moment.    They were only a quarter of mile from the safety of its structures, but Laura began to feel a drowsiness so profound, that she wanted to just stop for a moment and rest on the ground.  “No!” a voice from somewhere inside her screamed.  “Keep moving.  You’re almost there!”  Laura felt as though her legs had turned to concrete.  She could barely lift her feet to take a step forward.  She stumbled a step or two, but could no longer resist the overwhelming urge to sleep.  Numbly, she realized that she no longer felt cold.  She was suddenly very comfortable and even toyed with the idea of taking her coat off.  But she hadn’t the energy.  She stopped walking and swayed indecisively for what seemed like an eternity.  Then without warning, she simply collapsed to the ground.  She had broken the fall for her children and they whimpered, but didn’t cry outright.  They were succumbing to hypothermia as well and their senses were dulled. 

     Laura just wanted a ten-minute nap, that’s all, and then she would be ready to finish the hike.  “At least one of us is warm,” she thought on some level of fuzzy consciousness.  She had the presence of mind to lay her children carefully beside her on the ground, then decided she did want to remove her coat after all and laid it on top of them.  She draped her arm over her precious boys and pulled them underneath her body as much as possible.  A fragment of scripture floated through her mind.  “He will cover you with His feathers… ”  God was with them.  She had never been more sure of anything in her life.  Her thoughts wrapped themselves around Joe.  “I was going to tell you on Christmas Eve, Joe. “  With thick tongue and garbled speech, she laid her cold hand on each of her boys’ heads and simply whispered, “Mommy loves you.” Then Laura closed her eyes for the last time.

Laura's Star - Part II

PART II

     Joe had been relieved beyond words when the pickup had appeared the moment he stepped from his own dead vehicle.  His savior was a guy about his own age who was on his way home after dinner at a friend’s house.  He had seen Joe pull his car over and knew that he might need help.  He chatted amiably and Joe felt an instant kinship with this stranger.  “Thank you, Lord, for sending a guardian angel to us tonight,” Joe silently prayed.  “Please keep your Hand of Protection on my family while I’m gone, and help me to quickly get back to them!” 

     Joe and his rescuer chatted about nothing, then asked each other about their respective families.  Joe was mid-sentence when he heard an explosion and suddenly the driver was fighting for control of the truck.  They had blown a tire and were careening all over the road.  Joe grabbed the armrest and held his breath.  There was no time to pray, except for a frantic, “Help us!”   The driver had regained control and was preparing to pull to the shoulder when the pickup hit a patch of black ice and began to slide sideways down the interstate.  The sliding continued until the front tires hit the gravel on the shoulder of the road.  Their speed propelled them into a roll and the truck flipped twice before landing on the roof.  

     Joe was the first to regain consciousness.  He heard groaning before he could make his eyes open and realized it was coming from himself.  He tried to bring his hand to his face to wipe wet, sticky liquid from his eyes, but his arm refused to do his brain’s bidding.  He knew it must be badly broken and also knew the liquid running down his face was his own blood.  He gingerly tried to move, and felt the crunch of glass underneath him.  He tried his other arm and was immensely relieved to discover that at least one appendage was functional.  He wiped his hand across his face and managed to open one eye.  The other seemed stubbornly insistent on remaining shut.  With his good eye, he tried to assess his situation.  He was lying on the roof of the pickup and all the windows had been shattered.  There was debris strewn everywhere and big, fluffy snowflakes were blowing in through the open windows.  He suddenly remembered his traveling companion and looked for some sign of him.  He was nowhere to be found.  Thoughts raced through Joe’s mind, “What if help already came and they found the driver, but didn’t see me for some reason?”  Joe willed himself to remain calm and tried to think through possible scenarios.  In the midst of these thoughts, a horror dawned ferociously.  Laura and the boys were stuck in the cold!  It was why he had ended up in this predicament to begin with.  He couldn’t just lie here waiting for help.  He needed to seek help and get back to his family as quickly as possible. 

     He forced himself to move towards the gaping window, and then stopped suddenly.  He had heard a noise!  He lay as still as possible and listened intently.  Yes, there it was again.  He had definitely heard a moan coming from somewhere outside the vehicle.  His friend must have been thrown from the truck when they rolled.  But he was alive, at least for the time being.  Joe knew he had to get to him and then somehow find help for all of them.  Joe tried to move again and felt excruciating pain echo up his arm and into his chest.  He heard himself scream and then lay still again to try to stop the pain.  When he could bear the pain once more, he yelled at the top of his voice, “Hey!  Can you hear me?”  He realized he had never even asked the driver his name.  It seemed like such an unforgivable faux pas now.  Joe listened intently for a reply.  Hearing none, he repeated his question.  This time he heard a faint, “yeah.”  Joe wanted to shout, it seemed a victory of sorts.  “Hang in there.  I’ll try to get out of here and go find help for us.”  This time silence met him and he knew he would have to work through the pain and get out of his prison.  He took a deep breath and was ready to pick up his bad arm with his good, when suddenly there were car lights approaching.  Joe watched helplessly as the car pulled beside them and then heard footsteps approaching.  “Anybody here?” a man’s anxious voice called out loudly.  Joe tapped into every bit of mental strength he could muster and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Yeah, we’re over here!”  Running steps ensued and the next thing he knew, there was a man’s bearded face beside his and eager eyes were assessing the situation.  “You OK, Buddy?”  “I broke my arm pretty badly, but otherwise, I think I’m OK.  My friend is lying outside the truck somewhere, and is probably worse off than I am,” Joe explained in broken gasps.  The Bearded Man was nodding vigorously.  “You just hang in there now.  I’ve got a neighbor not two miles from here and I’ll use his phone.  I’ll be back with help as soon as I can.”  Joe nodded weakly, though he doubted the man could see in the dark.  “And one more thing,” Joe added.  “My wife and children are in a stranded car about ten miles east of here.  Please send help for them as well.  They must be freezing by now!”  Joe could see the puzzled look on the man’s face and the way he hesitated.  “Ten miles you say?  There’s a dead car there all right, I just passed it.  But there wasn’t anybody in it.  I’m sure of that.”  Joe tried to take in this information.  He must have been unconscious much longer than he had thought.  He asked the man beside him, “Do you know what time it is?”  “I reckon’ its about one in the morning,” the man replied.  One in the morning!  Joe was shaking now.  Where could his family be?  How could things have taken such a terrible turn?  With this thought on his mind, he lost consciousness again, the snow covering his ashen face.

Laura's Star - Part I, Continued

    

     Laura pulled him tightly against her and readjusted the coverings.  “OK, Honey.  You take a little nap and maybe when you wake up, Daddy will be back.”  Mattie nodded his head, yawned again, and was almost instantly asleep.  Coty had fallen asleep during the third verse of “Wheels on the Bus,” and now slept heavily against his mother.  Laura gingerly pulled her right arm away and looked at her watch again.  With alarm she realized that Joe had now been gone an hour and a half.  Her heart sank.  She had hoped they would be tucked into a warm tow truck by now.  Surely, it can’t be much longer.

     Laura looked into the blackness of the night.  Fear began to wrap its tentacles around her thoughts again.  She hadn’t realized that it had begun to snow.  Big, fluffy flakes were quickly covering the windshield.  If the situation weren’t so dire, she would love watching the beautiful snow accumulate.  But the last thing they needed right now was to add another obstacle to their situation.

     Laura felt a tear trickle down her face.  “Oh God, I am scared.  I just have such a bad feeling about all of this.  Help me to feel your peace and your presence.”  When Laura looked outside again, she was startled to see a light twinkling in the distance.  Why hadn’t she noticed it before?  She stared intently into the night trying to discern what her mystery light was.  She couldn’t tell if it truly was a star in the sky; but that didn’t make sense – it was snowing so the sky must be overcast.  Maybe someone had hung Christmas lights on their house or barn.  Whatever it was, its friendly light washed over her with assurance and comfort.  She wasn’t alone.  God was with her.

     “It is so cold in here!”  Laura thought to herself.  “It must be near zero inside this car.  My babies are so small.  How long can their little bodies retain heat?”  Laura forced her mind away from its morbid precipice and again began to pray.  “Please God, protect my children.  Let no harm befall them.”  Laura yawned.  Maybe she could doze a little.  It would make the time go faster.  She allowed her thoughts to drift and felt herself beginning to relax.

     She was startled by a tapping sound.  She fought to regain consciousness and forced her eyes to open.  She couldn’t remember where she was or why she was so intensely cold.  She heard the tapping sound again and realized it was coming from the driver’s side window.  She turned her head and saw a face peering in at them.  Her heart sank when she remembered what had happened and realized that Joe still had not returned.  She motioned the stranger to open the door and a gust of frigid cold filled the car.  “Lady, are you alright?  I didn’t see your car until I was almost on top of it.  I thought I better make sure there was no one in it.”  As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he realized that Laura was holding a baby and had a toddler leaning against her, and he gasped.  “How long have you been sitting here in the cold?”  Laura was still trying to shake the cobwebs from her brain, but the cold was causing her to wake up quickly.  “What time is it now?” she asked groggily.  “It’s nearly 12:45 AM, Ma’am.”  Laura tried to absorb this and did some quick mental calculations.  Joe had been gone for three hours!  Laura knew that something terrible had happened.  Joe would never allow his family to suffer in the cold for so long if he had any control over things.  Suddenly, Laura was crying.  She felt so alone and terrified.  She tried to control the shaking in her voice, but failed miserably.  “Our fuel gelled three hours ago and my husband left to get help.  A truck picked him up and was going to take him to Tower City.  I haven’t seen or heard from his since.”  “Bless your heart, Ma’am.  Let’s get these babies into my car and we’ll head to Tower City and see if we can figure out what the hold up is.”

     Laura cried even harder, relief sweeping over her that at last they would find warmth.  She hesitated briefly.  She had promised Joe that they would stay with the car.  But neither of them could have known that Joe’s absence would stretch into such an impossible length of time.  “Joe would want us to find warmth.  He’ll understand and be grateful that someone had come to our rescue.”  She gratefully handed Mattie to her rescuer, searched for her purse and diaper bag, grabbed all their coats and followed with Coty.  Her limbs felt stiff and she could feel the tears freezing on her face.  The cold instantly invaded every pore of her body.  She felt her sinus cavity freezing, gasped at the shock, and then felt her throat constrict with the cold.  Coty began wailing in protest and Laura forced her stiff and frozen body into the waiting pickup.  She slammed the door shut, as if to leave frosty demons outside, and instantly was surrounded by the most amazing warmth she had ever known.  The tears started again, and she was ashamed of her weakness.  It wouldn’t due to get the boys in a panicked state.  She forced herself to stop the tears and pulled her boys close.  They all sighed with contentment, but then began to shake uncontrollably.  “I reckon’ it will take some time to get you warmed up proper.  It must have been ten below in that car.  You say you been sittin’ there for three hours?”  He was silent for a moment, unwilling to finish his thought.  But Laura knew what he had been thinking.  They were lucky to be alive. 

     She let herself take a good look at her Good Samaritan.  He was a grizzled man in his early sixties, she guessed.  Nice looking with kind eyes.  She knew he could be trusted.  “I can’t thank you enough for coming to our rescue.  I can’t imagine what is taking my husband so long.”  “Well, I’m sure there’s an innocent enough reason.  We’ll get to the bottom of it in short order.  Name’s Sam, by the way.  Short for Samson.  Like in the Bible.”   His confidence warmed Laura and she sat up a little straighter.  “He’s right,” she thought.  “There’s a perfectly simple reason Joe has been delayed.  In no time, we’ll be together, we’ll warm up, and we’ll have a good laugh.”  That was one thing she loved most about Joe.  He found humor in everything.  But even after Laura’s internal pep talk, she still could not quiet the discomfort she felt in the core of her soul.  Something WAS wrong.  Joe would move heaven and earth to save his family.  She knew him as well as she knew herself.  Somewhere, her husband was detained for reasons beyond his control.  “Oh, Josiah, where ARE you?”

Laura's Star - Part I

Based On A True Story

     

       Laura froze in mid-sentence, her attention irresistibly drawn to the weather report being given on the radio.  “Did he just say that with the wind chill factor, it is ninety below zero?” Laura asked her husband, Joe.  “How is that even possible?”  Josiah chuckled at his wife’s naivety, the low kind of laugh that still made Laura smile, even after six years of marriage.   

Laura and Joe had met during college, he from Bismarck, and she from Missouri.  Laura had been instantly drawn to Joe’s quick smile, big brown eyes, and Scandinavian good looks.  It hadn’t taken long for love to blossom and they were married before they graduated in 1983. 

     Six years later, they were still madly in love, but their love had matured, as love does with time and commitment.  Their first baby, Matthew, had been born two-and-a-half years ago, and baby Coty was just 9 months old.  Josiah was crazy about his boys and had taken to fatherhood as naturally as breathing.  Laura had fallen in love with motherhood the moment she knew she was pregnant.  She loved feeling her babies growing inside of her, loved rubbing her belly every time she sat down, and loved the look of adoration in Joe’s eyes when he thought she wasn’t watching.  Even now her hand instinctively rested lightly on her belly.

     After college, Joe accepted a job in New England, and he and Laura had grown to love the beauty that is unique to the northeast.  They had settled in a small village in Vermont, called Johnson, established 1697 A.D., and spent their weekends happily skiing, hiking, and getting lost in dusty antique shops.  The arrival of their baby boys had only added to their happiness, and Joe and Laura planned to stay on the East Coast the rest of their lives.  Yes, it was difficult to live so far away from family, but even with the great distance separating them, they managed to see both sides of the family at least once a year, sometimes more. 

     And now they were headed to Joe’s parents’ house to spend Christmas with Joe’s side of the family.  It would be a noisy, busy, raucous holiday, just as Joe preferred it.  Joe longed to fill his own home with more children and he and Laura had spent many hours discussing when they might add another child to their happy home.  Christmas with Joe’s side would include games, spirited discussions touching on every topic under the sun, and food, food, and then more food.  Joe and Laura both knew that they would leave exhausted and stuffed to the gills, and ready to get back to their snug Cape Cod style house nestled in the Green Mountains.

     Laura tried to absorb the information she had just been hit with, and pressed Joe, “Have you EVER experienced weather this cold before?”  Joe thought about that for a moment.  “I remember the temperature hitting 40 below, actual air temperature.  I guess I don’t know what it was with the wind chill factor.  I do remember that it was COLD!”  But even in the dark of the car, she could see the twinkle in his eyes and hear it in his voice as he added, “but that’s no big deal for a North Dakotan.  We’re tough!”  “Yes, I know,” Laura laughed.  “You tell me that every day.” 

     Josiah glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that little Mattie was still sleeping in his car seat, but Coty caught his eye and giggled.  Joe turned around in his seat and looked his youngest full in the face.  “Hey, Little Guy, you’re still awake?  Daddy loves you!”  Coty reached chubby hands to his father and babbled happily.  Joe looked at Laura and winked.  “He’s almost as handsome as his father.”   Laura rolled her eyes, but secretly agreed.  Coty was a mirror image of his father and drew a crowd of admirers every time they went out in public.  It was going to be a challenge to keep this child grounded and humble.  As if reading his mother’s mind, Coty exclaimed with a slobbery “glaaableeth.”  Laura and Joe laughed out loud and Coty joined in. 

     “… The national weather service is warning motorists to stay home tonight.  If you must travel, carry an emergency travel kit with you.”  The radio announcer was continuing his weather report and had just talked about how dangerous the temperatures were.  Laura stopped laughing and became sober.  “Joe, this kind of cold is a little scary.  I have never, ever experienced anything like this in my life.  People could die from this kind of cold.  Do you think we should find a hotel and finish the trip in the morning?  At least we would have daylight on our side, even if it’s not any warmer tomorrow.” 

     Joe caught the edge of fear in his wife’s voice and covered her small hand with his large one.  “We’re only two hours away now.  We’ll make it just fine.  The thought of sleeping in a comfortable bed is just too irresistible.  We’ll be fine.  I promise!”  Laura visibly relaxed and allowed her hand to stay wrapped in her husbands’.  He always knew what to say and was so irresistibly strong and protective.  She laid her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes.  “OK, I believe you.  I’ll try to not be a Nervous Nellie!”  Joe squeezed her hand reassuringly.  “That’s my girl!  You know, I think you might actually be North Dakota material.  Maybe we should think about moving here someday.”  Laura groaned audibly.  “Don’t tell me we’re going THERE tonight.  This would not be a good time to try to sell me on North Dakota”. 

     Joe and Laura had had many discussions along the lines of moving closer to family.  Laura loved her New England home and friends and hated the thought of ever leaving.  But once in a while, Joe would bring up the topic of moving back home.  He seemed happy where they were, but Laura knew that he hated his children to miss out on the fun of being surrounded year round by grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.  “Maybe we should think about it,” he would press.  And as always, Laura would just smile and promise that she would think about it.  “But never too seriously,” she added to herself.  “The last place I want to live is in a god-forsaken deep freeze!” 

     Laura looked apprehensively out at the dark beyond the comfort and heat of the car and felt an uneasy premonition tugging at the corners of her mind.  It was so very dark and so bitterly cold.  But what really made her uneasy was the desolation of the highway right at that moment.  She couldn’t recall seeing another car for the last thirty miles.  She felt like they were the only humans beings on the open road tonight.  What if they needed help?

     Just then, as if to fulfill a morbid prophesy, the car began to lurch and shudder violently, and then it simply died.  Laura looked in fear at her husband, who was busily trying to steer the Dead Beast to the shoulder of the road and out of harm’s way.  Laura was frantically trying to mentally process what had just happened and what to do now, but her brain seemed to have shut down with the engine, so she said nothing, her face a reflection of the fear she felt.

     Joe was silent for a moment as he too searched for possible answers.  They were now off the road and the silence of the night was enveloping them like a heavy fog.  “Our fuel must have gelled up.  It’s the only thing I can think of,” Joe finally offered.  Laura wanted to cry.  She had begged Joe to not buy the diesel Oldsmobile, but he had won out with his arguments for exceptional fuel mileage.  And up to now, Laura conceded to herself, it had been a nice car for them.  It was luxurious, comfortable, and they did get great mileage.  “But how does one go about fixing a gelled fuel problem?”  Laura thought anxiously. 

     Joe was searching the backseat for his coat and gloves.  “What are you doing?”  Laura asked with alarm.  “I’m going to have to get help,” he replied with a calm he did not feel.  Laura tried to absorb this information.  “You’re not leaving us, are you?”   Her voice and mind fought panic.  “Honey, we can’t just sit here.  We need to be towed to a garage and have the fuel lines thawed out.  It’s not something I can do by myself.  Laura shifted from fear to anger.  “You can’t just leave us here!”  Josiah continued as though he hadn’t heard her.  “Tower City is twenty-five miles ahead.  I’ll try to hitch a ride and get dropped off at the garage there, and come back with a tow truck.  I will come back just as soon as humanly possible.”  Joe had located his down-filled jacket, his wool stocking cap, and gloves.  After he had dressed as warmly as possible, he turned and looked at Laura full in the face.  “I promise that I will be back before you know it.  But you must promise me that you will not leave the car, no matter what.  People get into trouble when they try to walk to help.  Promise me you’ll stay put.”  Laura fought tears, but was determined to be brave for Joe’s sake.  “I promise,” she said slowly.  Joe leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips.  “I love you, Laura.”  He found her coat in the backseat and covered her up with it, tucking it under her chin and around her shoulders.  “Cover the children up as best you can.  You’ll all be warmer if you sit together under coats.”  Laura nodded numbly and looked at her husband’s face, trying to read his thoughts.  He looked confident, and it suddenly infused her with confidence.  He WOULD be back and they would be fine.

     With one last gentle smile, he stepped from the car and the cold, seeing its chance at last, rushed into the car and took Laura’s breath away.  In an instant the door was shut again, and Laura watched in astonishment as almost immediately a pickup magically appeared beside their car and stopped.  Laura watched, transfixed, as Joe stepped into the truck and before she could think, he was whisked away, the red taillights disappearing into the inky darkness.

     Silence descended like a blanket onto Laura and she fought to think clearly.  Coty began to fuss in his car seat, and Laura was relieved to be pulled out of inaction.  Laura realized with a start that it had been quite some time since he had nursed, and now began to unfasten his seat belt in order to bring him up front with her.  She hesitated when Mattie began to stir from his slumber.  She desperately hoped he would sleep until Joe returned.  She carefully took Matthew out of his car seat and laid him gently on the seat between the two car seats.  She fished his favorite blanket from a tote on the floor and carefully covered him so that only his nose and mouth were exposed.  Then she found another jacket and placed it on top of the blanket, completely covering his tiny body.  She hoped his body heat would be trapped in this impromptu cocoon.  If he awoke, she would bring him up front with her. Until then, let him sleep the sleep of the innocent.

     Coty began to complain in earnest now, and she returned to the task at hand.  She carefully unbuckled him and then lifted him over the seat and snuggled him against her.  He stopped fussing immediately and nuzzled against her.  Laura kissed the top of his downy head and he began his baby babble, happy to be in his mother’s arms. 

     Laura was becoming uncomfortably aware of how quickly the car was cooling off inside and reached for her parka.  She let Coty latch on and then covered them both with her warm jacket.  She was so grateful they had brought their warmest winter wear.  With sudden clarity, she realized it might literally mean the difference between life and death.

     Coty suckled contentedly and Laura began to relax and enjoy the closeness of this little body.  She thought back to the night he was born.  In the weeks before his birth, she and Josiah had quarreled about what to name this baby.  Joe has insisted he be named after his favorite high school football coach, Wesley, but Laura would not entertain the idea, and wanted to call him Christopher, after her brother.  They had gone round and round, sometimes reaching tense moments of impasse, but nothing was resolved when Laura went into labor five days early.

     As her newborn lay in her arms in the hospital and Joe was grinning from ear to ear, she had quietly whispered the perfect name.  “He should be named Dakota, as in North Dakota.  We’ll call him Coty for short.”  The look on her husband’s face was priceless and Laura knew she would never forget the love that shone in his eyes at that moment.  And Dakota it was. 

     Now as she finished nursing him, she wondered that they had ever considered calling him anything else.  His name fit him so perfectly.  There was something wild and untamed about this child, and at the same time, a beauty that made a heart skip a beat.

     “Oh, Josiah.  Hurry!”  Laura began mentally calculating how long Joe might be gone.  “It shouldn’t take more than twenty-five minutes to get to Tower City.  Maybe twenty minutes to get things arranged, and another twenty-five minutes back to the car.  Best-case scenario, he might be back in a little over an hour.  He’s already been gone...,”  Laura held her watch to her face and tried to see it in the dark.  She could just barely see the hands in the dim interior.  “…He’s been gone about twenty minutes, I’m guessing.  So he should be back here in about 50 minutes.”  She paused her calculations.  “That’s if everything goes well,” she added with chagrin.    

     Laura laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.  “Dear God, please go with my husband and help him to get back to us quickly.  We need him here!”  Laura heard a stirring in the back seat and she opened her eyes and turned around.  “Mommy, I cold.” Mattie’s muffled voice came from somewhere under his blankets.  “OK, Honey.  You can come up front with Mommy and Coty.  We’ll snuggle together and keep each other warm.”  Mattie struggled to sit up amidst all his coverings and Laura laid Coty on the seat and reached for Mattie, who eagerly leaned into his mother’s grasp.  “We’ll pretend we are bears and hibernate together in our cave,” Laura said to Mattie.  Mattie giggled, “OK.”  Laura positioned Matthew beside her on the seat and picked Coty back up, holding him against her chest.  She pulled all the coats and loose clothing she could find on top of them, but even still, she could feel the chill of the car oppressively weighing upon them.  Her face was going numb, and it had only been a half hour since Joe left.  What if he had trouble getting back to them and they had to sit here for hours?  Would they survive?  Would they suffer frostbite?  Laura shuddered involuntarily.  “I can’t think this way!”  Laura shook her head as if to dispel her demons and forced her attention on her children.  “Let’s sing!” she said suddenly.  “Mattie, what shall we sing?”  “Jingle Bells!” he said exuberantly.  Laura and Matthew sang lustily and Laura could feel the extra warmth the exercise brought.  “Let’s sing another one,” Laura suggested when they were done.  They sang as many songs as they could think of, and finally Mattie yawned and said heavily, ”no more songs, Mommy.  I tired. “

“…and Behold, I Bring You Timings Of Joy”

I have stood at a distance, this Christmas season, and observed first grade from a silent witness vantage point.  This, my first Christmas as a real-live teacher, without the encumbrances of studies, has left me a bit wide-eyed with the joy that children infuse into this most celebrated holiday.  To watch their happiness and excitement grow daily is truly magical.

The Christmas program was enchanting.  Angelic, nervous, giggling school children dressed in crisp holiday clothes.  Parents lugging enough video equipment and cameras to shoot a Wendy’s commercial, and piles of cookies and bars for after the performance.  As a teacher, this was my very first Christmas program.  As a mother I have attended roughly 947 of them. I enjoyed this one as much as I ever have.

The stage with its elevation above the audience and bright floodlights seems to exaggerate both the shyness and the natural-born extroverts.  It’s easy to spot the ones that want to drop through the floor into eternal invisibility, and those that will someday board a bus for Hollywood. I could not have been more proud of those kids that night if they were my own flesh and blood.

Today was another holiday tradition.  Our students trudged down the street to the local Senior Center to sing their little hearts out for the elderly, who are trying to digest their noodle hot dish, while Little Emma belts “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” into their Miracle Ear.

I volunteered to be the chaperoning teacher to accompany our dear music teacher, Jeanne (a saint of a woman), and the kindergarten through second grade classes.  I lined them up at the front doors of the building and gave them the usual stay-in-line-and-on-the-sidewalk lecture, and then we were off.  As we stepped off the curb to cross the street, I hollered over my shoulder, “I’m the momma duck and you are my ducklings!”  Squeals of giggles answered me and then the quacking began as I led a slightly crooked, quacking, arm-flapping bunch down the town sidewalk.  Main Street is all of two blocks long, so it didn’t take but a jiffy to be at the front door of the Senior Center. 

Now the “be quiet, be polite, keep your hands to yourself, and for goodness sakes’ SMILE!” lecture was given before we entered the building.  The Town Jewels were already dining and smiled as our students walked in and tried to quietly and quickly line up in some semblance of orderliness, all nineteen of them.  We would have had a few more, but some virulent strain of stomach flu is knocking kids down like a twelve pound bowling ball at the Lucky Strike Lanes.  Jeanne had already set up her stereo and was busy putting sound track CD’s into it.

With the first recorded notes, they were brilliant.  They sang, they smiled, they remembered their choreographed motions, and they charmed the socks off The Jewels.  I felt an obligation to get the crowd pumped up a bit so I smiled broader than the kids, bobbed my head in time to the music and grinned every time I could catch the eye of a singing, dancing Darling.  When each selection was over, the Town Jewels clapped politely; I boisterously.  If I had had a lighter I would have held it high over my head.

One of my boys was just a few feet from me, just givin’ it all he had.  He was lost in the moment, and I couldn’t help but be riveted to his sweet little face.  Sincerity was written all over his features, front teeth missing, and brow furrowed in intensity.  I could hear him well, sitting as close as I was.  The closing song was “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”  The Crooner really got wound up when he got to the part of, “…good tidings we bring...,” but he errantly thought it should be sung, “timings.”  Every time he got to the refrain, he would belt out, “Good timings for Christmas and a happy New Year!” 

When the show was over, the beaming children were handed gifts of candy canes and baggies of assorted candies that had been carefully packaged by the Lady Jewels, I’m sure.  We struggled into coats once again and then waddled our way back to school, loudly caroling “Jingle Bells” to all of Main Street. 

Such a simple thing we did today.  A five-minute stroll to sing a few songs and spread a little Christmas cheer.  The children enjoy the escape from school drudgery for a few minutes, and the elderly love seeing Christmas through the eyes of a child for a brief moment, and remembering how magical this time of year is to the young and young at heart.

I marveled today, as I watched the young and the old, stare into each others' faces.  Marveled that the intervening years are but a vapor that will quickly dissipate and before anyone quite knows what has happened, the children of today who sing and dance for the elderly will soon become the elderly themselves.  The young have no concept of this, of course.  They fully believe that their youth will hang on them for an endless eternity.  They don’t know they will get old because it does not occur to them to think about it. 

But the old know.  They remember being boisterous children that couldn’t contain their Christmas excitement and they themselves once sang and danced for the joy and entertainment of others.  They know that today’s happy child will only need to blink, and they themselves will be frail and slow and will dine on hot noodle dish every third Tuesday at the Senior Center.  And those same children of today will come to look forward to the thoughtful attentions of people like Jeanne who remember to bring children to the Senior Center. 

They know.  They remember.  And for the briefest of moments, they are children once again, with agile bodies and light hearts.  Life is cyclical.  And though society morphs through changes that alter how we think and do things, some things are timeless...

like...

Children at Christmas and the cherished memories of those that remember what it is like to be a child at Christmas.

And so…

On behalf of Mrs. Dahl and her Little Darlings,

“Good Timings of Christmas and a Happy New Year!”

Merry Christmas!

Laura's Star - The Background

On Christmas Eve morning, 1994, Ronald E. Miller took his last mortal breath and his spirit slipped away from this temporal Earth.  My father was fifty-six years old and was the most extraordinary man I have ever known. 

He dedicated his life to the belief God’s love is unconditional.  That His Grace and Mercy are free and abundant.  And that when things seem darkest, there is always Hope.

In dedication to his life and memory, I am posting a short story I wrote for a class while an education student in 2009.  It is a fictional account, but is based on a true experience.  I will post this story in five parts, beginning on Tuesday, the 21^st. There will be one each day leading up to the last post on Christmas Morning.  I will post each section at 10:30 a.m., the time my father’s spirit soared to the heavens. 

I hope you will enjoy Laura’s Star. 

Vonda

Laura's Star

Sometimes hope begins with a distant light...

Laura’s Star, beginning December 21^st and ending Christmas morning, is a work of fiction based on a true story. 

Apples and Icons

I am tired.  I am physically exhausted, yes.  I believe the technical, physiological term for what I am experiencing would be “pooped.”  I am also tired of being in that 1936-era school building.  I mean I am SICK of it.  Of the last 48 hours, I have spent nearly 26 of them in that building.  The superintendent said I should consider renting an apartment near the school and/or set up a bed on-premises. I’m leaning towards silver Airstream parked on the playground.

Here’s the answer to the question you are asking me via telepathy.  (Yes, I can hear your brain asking me if I have lost mine…) The reason I have spent so much time at school in the last two days beyond my usual hours of teaching, is because I also served a turn as a teacher representative at the school board meeting Monday night.  The meeting doesn’t even begin until eight.  I stayed after school, instead of going home, to prepare for my trip on Thursday (more on that in a New York minute).  By the time the meeting had adjourned and I had doodled on every scrap of paper within my reach, it was 9:30. 

Yesterday I stayed late in order to prepare for my substitute teacher that will be filling in for me for the latter part of this week.  What a pain in the butt it is to get things ready for the sub!  It is much like hiring a maid and then cleaning the house before she arrives.  And it does not help that my sub is the teacher that filled this very room with her presence for thirty-nine years.  She is as much an iconic part of this school and community as is the town “hall” where countless celebrations have been held commemorating weddings, anniversaries, graduations, and any other gathering that has been held and needed spaciousness.  It also doubles as the town movie theater, complete with church pew benches for seating.

OK!  You drug it out of me.  I am intimidated by her legend.  She taught multiple generations to read, write, and do ‘rithmatic.  She IS the face of first grade around here.  So when she steps into my borderline cluttered, endearingly chaotic classroom, I have visions of her clucking her tongue and thinking,”Uffda! (a Norwegian utterance), I should have never retired.”

But she did, and the school board was fool enough to hire a middle-aged, quasi-hippie to replace her, so I will just have to hold my head high and risk her stringent evaluation.  You understand my stress at preparing for her arrival though, I hope.  She knows her stuff.  I do not yet.  Oh, I think I know as much as the average brand-spankin’ new teacher, but the proof is in the puddin,’ as they say.  Only time will prove whether or not I am a truly effective instructor.

I want her to walk in tomorrow and find neat, organized stacks of curriculum manuals, activity sheets, and art supplies for the paper bag reindeer and tongue depressor Santas.  That is my fantasy anyway.  I suspect today’s busy schedule will leave me walking out the door at the end of this day saying to myself, “She’ll figure it out…”

So where am I going, you ask?? (I am so glad you asked…)

My hubbie and I are climbing on board a plane tomorrow morning and heading east to take a bite out of the Big Apple (sort of ironic for a teacher to be headed to an apple).  We have dreamed about and discussed spending time in New York City at Christmas time for several years.  We made tentative plans to do so last year to celebrate my finishing my degree.  But then I had a few courses to finish up over Christmas break, I got hired (yay!), and it just was not feasible to run away when so much stress hung heavy on my shoulders.

Mr. Dahl brought it up again this fall.  Race ‘ya!  And so we began planning, scheming, and buying tickets online.  Our itinerary is jam-packed.  Phantom of the Opera one night.  Radio City Music Hall another.  Then there are all the iconic NYC experiences that will somehow find their way into our overloaded schedule.  Ellis Island, Empire State building, Metropolitan Museum of Art, hot dogs off on of those shiny carts, and on and on.  We are STOKED. 

But before I settle into my plane seat, pull out my paperback and finally draw a deep, cleansing breath, I have papers to grade and art projects to finish, and a perfectly perfect retired teacher to get ready for. 

I am ready for a break.  But resting will have to wait another day.

Right now I need coffee and in internal pep talk.

(Serenity now….)

You Should Have Finished Serving Your Sentence, Chicken On Sale

I found him today.  I should say, my daughter found him.  Hannah was waiting for her turn at piano lessons (the piano teacher comes right to the school and charges a whopping $4 a lesson).  She didn’t feel like tackling biology, so I put her to work in my classroom.  She got down to business pulling plastic tubs out from under the shelving and fishing out the most amazing plunder.  Lost pencils, folders, erasers, markers, and a plethora of other unclaimed items. 

She suddenly stood up.  “It’s a frog,” she declares, as if she and I had been discussing amphibians and their habitats.  “Eww.  It’s a frog,” she states again, as if I am hard of hearing (my kids keep asking me if I want a walk-in shower for Christmas, so it is true that they think I have one foot in the grave).

I walk over to where she was and stooped down to take a gander with my old lady, rheumy eyes.  Sure enough, lying in state was a very shriveled froggy, on his back as if he had been laid out in a casket for viewing.  His little legs were stretched out perfectly.  He was very, very thin. 

Chicken On Sale never made it past “the yard.”  What you were thinking, you green fugitive, you??  Crime never pays… you surely knew that!  You should have done your time, eaten the delicious reptile pellets we served you daily, and put up with sixteen eyeballs staring at you all day, tapping on the side of your pretzel jar habitat, shouting at you to “WAKE UP!’…. oh, never mind.  You are probably better off now.

Well, anyway, mystery solved.  He must have tunneled to freedom when the kids added fresh vegetation that fateful morning. 

It’s a wonder he didn’t stink to high heavens.  He’s been gone for weeks. 

We now have eight very cool Walking Stick insects in our possession, so we did not mourn for long, but forgotten he is not.  His name comes up often and as each of my eight first graders chose a name for one of the Walking Sticks, Chicken On Sale was a very popular name.  We settled for names such as Chicken Junior and Chicken On Sale Redux. 

His memory lives on...

Beginning December 21st… Laura’s Star

Coming the Week of Christmas... A Story of Hope

Porcelain Children

My mother gave me many gifts as I was growing up.  No, not material things; there was very little money for that in our household.  But rather, lasting gifts that have helped shape and mold me into the person I have become. 

She gave me the love of reading, for example.  The fun of diving into a really good book and getting lost for ten minutes or two hours has been a lifelong joy.  She also instilled within me the marvelous ability to laugh at myself and not only share in a joke at my expense, but be the first to share it with others.  It was a pretty amazing skill to possess when I was an awkward teenager.

She also taught me that material possessions are transient and that I should hold onto them loosely.  Those beautiful things that I treasure, collect, and admire are only within my possession until I am victim of a devastating fire, a robbery, financial ruin, or any other potential life loss.  I witnessed her many times give away a dish or a piece of furniture or anything else that she thought someone else might enjoy.  She knew she was merely a custodian of those things, not life owner. 

The phrase that rings in my memory is one that I heard many times throughout my childhood.  Whenever I would drop a dish or glass and stand watching in horror as it shattered at my feet (and it happened often, for I was a clumsy child), she would simply say, “It’s OK, honey, that dish is not more important than you are.  It’s just a dish.  It can be replaced.  You cannot.”  In hindsight, I do not ever remember her actually replacing any of the countless things broken by my hand.  I suppose the funds were never quite there with four children to care for. 

But she never complained and never, ever flung my clumsy deeds into my face at a later date when her frustrations were surely boiling over with yet one less dish, or glass, or vase in the cupboard (I was very clumsy).  Oh, she would occasionally try to reconstruct a china teacup or porcelain plate with the ever-handy Super Glue, but they never look quite the same, do they?  Even if the edges go neatly back together, you always have that dark line where the new seam is.  It somehow takes away from the perfect beauty it had once held.

I mention my butter-finger past because that is the image that invades my mind when I consider my students locked in a custody battle.  They have a mother and they have a father, but they no longer have a mother and father.  It is now he and she, or rather he against she or she against he.  Usually it is he and she against each other.

I have a sweet six-year-old who is turning seven tomorrow.  He is PUMPED.  He has mentioned his birthday thirteen times a day for a month.  He knows our classroom traditions and has made sure they will be in place for his big day.  I absolutely adore the unashamed demanding of specialty status that children expect on their birthday.  For one day a year, they are the sole center of attention.  They will not be denied their very brief moment of glory.  They should not have to be denied it.  The celebration of Life is something to be revered.

My husband, who is Logic itself, has said countless times, “It’s just another day of the year.”  I’m sorry, dearie, it is not just another day.  Life is precious and finding a reason to recognize that fact is nearly holy, I feel.  I love birthdays.  You have my permission to lavish adoration on me when mine rolls around.

Here is where things have gotten sticky for Mr. Birthday.  Things are a mess between mom and dad.  I will not lay out details here, for they are irrelevant, and frankly, none of your business.  I will suffice it to say that I only hope my Birthday Boy has a great day tomorrow.  It could be a day of disappointment or trauma for him.  I really hope it is the day of his dreams. 

So for all the divorced parents out there locked in a custody nightmare, I have just a few things I would like to address as a teacher. 

First of all, I have not walked in your shoes, therefore I do not judge you.  I cannot pretend to know how you feel or what frustrations you face everyday.  I DO know that you love your child.  I have no doubt about that.  I am sorry for your heartache, fears, and frustrations.  I cannot imagine not getting to see my children each and every day.  I simply cannot imagine it…

That said, here is my list of things I would like for you to consider as you walk this rocky path:

1.     Remember that each child is “hard-wired” to love both their mother and their father.  No matter how awful you feel your ex is, your child merely wants the love and unconditional acceptance of both of you.  He or she cannot help it, anymore than they can help the need to take a breath every few seconds. 

2.     Please, please (please!) do not share your frustrations over your ex with your children.  It will do zero good for you, them, or anyone else.  Your child is not equipped to emotionally handle your baggage.  It will only leave your child stressed and fearful.

3.     Try to find something good about your ex to recognize.  If you cannot find even one small positive trait, then at least don’t disparage the other.  Your child will feel the need to defend that parent, and that is not their job.  Their job is to navigate the choppy waters of youth secure in the love of both of their parents.

4.     Please work together for special days (holidays, birthdays, etc.) in order to create those golden memories that every child deserves.  Sometimes it just ISN’T about you or your need to “win.” Let peace reign for a while.

5.     Don’t rob them of their childhood.  Let them be kids and not miniature adults.  Leave the fretting, anger, and manipulating to the adults.  A teacher should not ever have to hear a child tearfully confess that they feel unsafe or are afraid that custody will go one way or another.  Time with each parent should be joyful, anticipated, and a safe harbor.

This issue is hard for me, people.  Children are so incredibly precious.  Given the proper conditions and environment for thriving, they will flourish and rise to their very best potential.  You know me well enough by now to know that I will always advocate for the child.  The happiness and welfare of adults is of less importance to me.

I see these children with broken hearts much as I viewed the broken pieces of porcelain that used to lie at my feet when I myself was a child.  There are no “do-overs.”  When once their spirits are crushed and their hearts in shambles, all the Super Glue of the world won’t make things as they once were.  I am not judging.  I am merely making a teacher’s observation.   There are no easy answers or quick fixes to the complex issues that wrap tentacles around broken trust or lives betrayed. 

But the children….

The precious, sad children…

To the children I say, “Nothing is more important than you.  You are irreplaceable.  And if and when your parents get things figured out, or if they never do, just know that you have never, at any time, been unloved.  Be brave, be strong, and most of all, be a kid.”

To my Mother, thanks for making me feel irreplaceable and loved.

In a perfect world, every other parent would do the same…