The Best Job in the World

      Parenting teenagers is not for the faint of heart. It takes time, courage, lots of money, nerves of steel and something I am careful not to pray for, patience. That said, I have been blessed with two wonderful kids. Proof positive that sometimes you don't get what you deserve. My daughter is a talented, driven, intelligent and beautiful young lady who is about to begin college in the fall. At this point in time she sees me as an overprotective, overbearing, and occasional psycho mom who knows nothing about anything and just doesn't get it. My son is a bright, handsome, laid back freshman in high school who just finished driver's ed. He still finds me bearable most days. Ah, but he is young. Give it time.

      Raising children in today's world is quite a challenge. It isn't about watching them as they play outside anymore, it is about checking their computer histories and following their social networking sites. It isn't enough to know their friends, you have to follow their friends list and know who they are texting nonstop, day and night. You need passwords and tech savvy just to begin to keep up. We have all the stuff that our parents had to deal with in addition to all those modern creations like texting while driving and cyber bullying. It can be nerve racking, overwhelming and exhausting, but I still wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

      Being a parent forces you to up your game. It changes who you are and is virtually impossible to do while being self centered. It is a huge responsibility because you literally have someone else's life in your hands. It's up to you to teach them about the world, to prepare them for life on their own, and to give them the tools they need to cope with it all as they go. Children come with no how-to manual, no money back guarantee. You sign on for life and even though they will eventually leave you, they will always be your baby.

      The hardest part about parenting comes when they think they are grown. They begin to pull away attempting to forge their own life path. This creates inevitable conflict and that conflict hurts. Sometimes amidst the yelling and crying I wish I could tell my kids what is really on my heart. So here it goes, 

      Things I Wish My Kids Knew:

1. That parenting is the hardest job I have ever had and I entered it as everyone does, with virtually no idea of what I was doing.
2. When you hurt, physically or emotionally, I hurt too and I would give anything, absolutely anything to take away your pain.
3. How disappointed I am with myself when I lose my cool and get angry with you. How I wish I could beat that demon once and for all.
4. That I want to know who your friends are not because I want to control who you have in your life but because I believe that you deserve to spend your time with people that will love you for everything that you are.
5. It is ok to admit that you need help, even mine. It is ok to cry. Neither means you are weak. It only means you are human.
6. You aren't always going to fit in. No one does. It doesn't mean that you don't have value. It just means that some people aren't smart enough to see it.
7. Happy is a choice.
8. True success in life isn't about how much you accumulate. It's about how much you give back.
9. The best way to forget your own trouble is to help someone else with theirs.
10. Anything you go through no matter how bad, can be turned into something good if you let it. 
11. Regardless of how hard things seem, remember with prayer, hope, love and a little time they will get better.
12. All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy, fulfilled and loved.
13. I have never been, nor will I ever be the perfect parent that you deserve, but no one will ever love you more than I.

      As I thought about this week's pay it forward project I decided to support some fellow parents in their perilous journey. The kids I teach are only in middle school and God love 'em, many of these poor parents don't have any idea what they are in for. So I think this week I'm going to give them a little encouragement via emails letting them know that they are doing something right. I have always wanted to do this! I'll pick a few great, well mannered, well behaved kids from each class and send their parents an email letting them know what a fantastic job they are doing and what an awesome child they are raising. Good kids don't just happen, it takes lots of hard work and love and I can certainly empathize, I am right there in the trenches with them! So here's to all those imperfect parents out there that refuse to give up. Keep fighting the good fight, for they will be gone before ya know it! :)

Laurie

"Floor Watchers"

      We have a mentor program at our school. It is an awesome program charged with the task of equipping students with what they need to not only stay in school but to thrive. It is one of the most rewarding things I have ever been a part of. Basically my colleagues and I look at children we think might be at high risk for failure due to a variety of reasons. Some might need tutoring, many have attendance issues, a few have trouble socially, and others might be going through a rough patch at home. Whatever the cause, the mentor's job is to let the student know that there are people who care about them and want to help them succeed by giving them the tools to grow, change or adapt.

      I will never forget one of my favorite mentees. He was in seventh grade when I first met him and he was what I call a "floor watcher." This child was so shy that he walked through the halls trying to be invisible, trying so desperately to blend into his environment so that he might not be singled out or embarrassed. He mistakenly thought that he had nothing to offer, that his opinion was worthless and that his only reason for living was for the cruel amusement of his peers who liked to call him creepy or weird.

      My husband works in the PE department in the same school as I do. He has a unique way of evaluating his students at the beginning of each new semester. It involves a simple game of dodgeball. The kids love dodgeball and I can certainly see why. Talk about a way to relieve stress! Nothing like pelting a ball at someone who has been giving you a hard time all week to put a smile on your face. Now these balls are specially made for the sport and are extremely soft so there is no real harm done. I think it is just the simple fact that you get to toss a ball at a fellow peer and not get in trouble. Hmm, maybe I should join a dodgeball league. :) Anyway, Michael has the kids play the game at the end of the first full week of school so he can see what kind of people they are. Michael says that nothing tells you more about a person's character than a good game of dodgeball because it's what you do when you think no one is watching that really matters. You see if a kid gets hit with a dodgeball he is suppose to sit down, but many students will take a few quick glances around to see if anyone saw them get hit before they decide whether to keep playing and see if they can get away with it or sit down and play fair. Now these kids think that no one is really paying attention, but after a decade or so of teaching, Michael and the rest of the PE staff are trained to see out of the back of their heads, corner of their eyes and upside down if need be and you can be sure that they know when a kid gets hit. They all watch to see if he/she sits down, not so they can correct them but because it tells them so much about the child's character.

      Michael came to me one day with a name for the mentee list. He told me that he wanted to take on my "floor watcher" as a special project. "This boy," he said, "could be a great athlete if he could only get his confidence up. He is a good kid," Michael told me. "He just needs some encouragement. He is in your art class, would you keep an eye on him and work on his self esteem a bit if you get the chance?" I nodded, "Sure," I said. "In the meantime," Michael went on, "I am going to see if I can get him interested in football. This kid really needs something that he can be good at and he is as strong as an ox. I think he will make a great football player." I stopped him as he was leaving. "Hey," I said. "Did he pass the dodgeball test?" Michael grinned. "With flying colors."

      So Michael set about working on his project. He got the boy in the weight room and watched as he quickly and quietly excelled. He got him on the football field as well and let's just say he had found his sport! He loved the game and slowly, carefully with the coaches constant encouragement, he began to come out of his shell.

      I can remember the first time I saw him his eighth grade year. Weight training combined with a good little growth spurt had transformed this once shy, awkward "floor watcher" into a confident and strong young man, but the thing that really stood out for me was the way in which he carried himself. He walked into my class that semester with his head held high. My heart jumped for joy! What a difference a year had made! Actually what a difference a year, lots of food, some hard lifting and an inspirational coach had made. :) Somewhere near the end of his eighth grade football season this boy's dad who was so proud of his son's success, found Michael and thanked him for what he had done for his child. He told him how glad he was that Michael had talked him into playing football and how much it had helped his son's self esteem.

      Michael and I ran into this young man a year or so ago and he was working his way through college. You could tell by the way that he talked with the people he was working with that he was a different kid than the one I remembered all those years ago in seventh grade. He was bright, talkative, almost outgoing even and extremely glad to see his middle school football coach. He had continued with football in high school and was very successful. It gave him an automatic peer group and helped to keep him on the right track. And to think that he might never have even tried the sport if not for the coaxing of one persistent PE coach that took a special interest in him.

      Michael and I recall that story from time to time to remind ourselves why we do what we do. So many other jobs pay more financially but this job has it's own form of currency. We get paid every time a kid makes it by beating the odds, developing his self esteem, or by discovering his true value. It's a good pay check and although it might not buy me a new car, it pays pretty well.

      For this weeks pay it forward project I decided it was time to recommit to my mentees this semester. While I have done my best to check in on them, I have not taken it to the level that Michael did with his special project. I have been so busy with all of the regular classroom stuff. Sometimes it is easy to forget why I'm really here. I need to go the extra mile because I think about what might have become of that boy if Michael had not taken the time to really encourage him. I shudder to think that this talented, bright young man might still be a "floor watcher" and what a horrible waste that would have been. So this week I'm on the prowl for "floor watchers." Time to seek one out,  dust 'em off and help them discover some hidden talent. I am long over due for another good pay day!

Laurie

There Is Always Room For One More

      "Everything in life is temporary, because everything changes. That's why it takes great courage to love, knowing it might end anytime but having the faith it will last forever."  Anonymous

      "Please Mommy, please." She pleaded. "Maddie we've already got two at home." I said. "People are going to think I'm some sort of animal collector, or hoarder, or dog lady." She was undeterred and eventually those big green eyes and that pouty bottom lip won me over. If she had just been a bad kid, I might have been able to tell her no, but my daughter never asked for much and never gave us any trouble. So by the end of the day we were proud parents of the cutest little black lab mix puppy you have ever seen. The owners couldn't sell her because she was missing her tail and she had a square shaped butt that looked a lot like a rottweiler's. It was obvious that she wasn't a pure bred and that was one of the things that I loved most about her. It was Sophie's little quirks that made her so special like the way she used her paws. When you petted her, she wanted to pet you right back. She would take her paw and put it on yours. It was so cute. It melted my heart. She was the sweetest, most patient creature. I loved her instantly and she sized me up pretty quick too. Sophie knew from the start that I was a sucker. It's like I have a neon sign on my forehead. They just know.

      The counselors at my school have it figured out too. I can tell them no when they call my room attempting to add yet another student to an already overstuffed classroom but when they show up at my door with a sweet little child sporting crocodile sized tears pleading "Mrs. Sloan, please let me in your art class. I don't care if there aren't anymore seats, I'll sit on the floor, please!" they know I'll cave. I end up telling them "Oh alright. I guess there is always room for one more. Here, take my desk."

      I found the sweetest little post it note at the end of the semester written by that child that claimed my desk for her own. She carefully covered it with clear tape and adhered it to my desktop in plain view. It said "Thank you Mrs. Sloan for letting me in your art class. You are the best art teacher in the world and I love you!" That one post it started a tradition in my room. Now other students will ask permission to leave a post it note on my desk at the close of the term. I think they like the idea that it is in such a prominent place and I will see it everyday. Those notes warm my heart and make me smile. There are lots of them now and when I go to clean my desk, I have to carefully work around them. So as you can imagine, my work space stays a little dirty and because of the notes, it always looks a bit cluttered. That's ok, I don't mind. I wouldn't trade that clutter for anything in the world!

      Sophie left her mark as well but she didn't use post it notes. The carpet succumbed to her after she got a hold of an ink pen and chewed it up leaving an enormous black ink stain in the center of the family room. There were more than a few pairs of shoes lost to her boredom but there were also lots of wet kisses and snuggles, lots of unconditional love and laughs and plenty of butt wiggles. Since she didn't have a tail she just wiggled her whole butt when she was happy. No tail, no problem!

      Sophie's favorite way of greeting folks involved a snout to the crotch. Try as I might there was no stopping her when a visitor came to the house. It got so that every man that came to the door on a regular basis began to cover his crotch area with both hands in preparation for Sophie's signature greeting. We had to explain to the newcomers that it was just a lab thing. :) Yes Sophie was a bit of a flirt but her favorite target was my Dad. She loved that man! She knew that he was the weak link and if she worked on him long enough she could have as many snacks as her belly could hold. They were best buds.

      Our Sophie died last Thursday from a genetic liver disease. She was only five years old. I miss her so very much. The couch was her territory and it seems empty without her. No one sits there now, not even the other dogs. That was her spot. There is a vacancy next to Michael's chair as well. After telling a colleague about losing Sophie they told me that was why they didn't have dogs anymore, because it hurt too much to lose them. I told the wonderful people at the vet's office the same thing. I said through tears "I guess I shouldn't have anymore dogs because I get too attached." To this they responded "That's exactly why you should."

      Love takes courage. Love leaves its mark on your heart whether it be in the form of paw prints or post it notes and sometimes love is messy, but love is always worth it because it changes who we are for the better. I am thankful for the time I had with my darling little dog and as a pay it forward this week Michael and I decided to donate Sophie's medicines and dog food to our local vet's office. Then I remembered that Dr. Ward had told us that there was one other dog in town with the same exact liver disease that Sophie had, only this lucky fellow is responding to the medication. They had caught his in time. Dr. Ward also mentioned in passing that his family could not afford the next phase of treatment. No one knows what they are going through more than we do, so Michael and I decided to use some of the money that we had put aside for Sophie's treatment to help save their dog. We call it the Sophie fund. Maybe the money will allow this other family to enjoy their dog for a little while longer. We will be praying that he continues to do well and that the Sophie fund might be of some help. In the meantime I will give thanks for the two little dogs that I have left at home and I will be forever grateful for the paw prints and the post it notes that find their way into my heart.

Laurie

     

The Dragon Story

      There is a chair next to my desk in my classroom. The kids dubbed it the counseling chair and I guess the name kind of stuck. If a student is having a bad day they can come sit in that chair and tell me what's going on without fear of reprimand, judgment or exposure. Note that I did not say that they would not have to endure a brief lecture or two depending on the nature of the discussion but it still offers them a safe place to unload what ails them. Throughout the years there have been many students that have sat in that chair and most have the usual middle school concerns but others just break your heart. The past week or two the counseling chair has been rather busy. So much so I was sure that there was a full moon. Yes any cop, ER doctor, baby doctor or teacher can tell when there is a full moon without even looking, people just seem to get all wound up and kids are no different. There was no full moon so I guess it was just an overload of hormones. I was a little overrun by the sheer number of kids needing time and attention these past few weeks and I was a little discouraged to be honest because sometimes there is so little I can do for my kids except listen and then I remembered the dragon story.

      Years ago I got called to the Principal's office on urgent business. Even as an adult the walk to that office is a long one. I guess it was habit but I kept running everything I had done recently through my head to see if anything qualified for a formal reaming. Nope, not that one. No that wasn't really that bad. No, that parent wasn't too mad. So what in the world was this about? Nothing could have prepared me for this one.

      It seems there was a new student. No problem, we are a military town and that front entrance operates much like a revolving door. This student was different however because this student's parents had a habit of suing every school district they had been in for the past seven years. Yikes! Ok, now I'm starting to see why this was important. Apparently the family was atheist and they felt as though their rights had been trampled at every turn.  My boss at the time had put the young lady in my class because her parents felt she might excel in art and besides he said, "I can't put her in chorus because Lu is a preacher!" I guess he thought she might be safer with the Methodist. Anyway, I thanked him for the heads up and assured him that I would be on my best behavior. I would edit my words and watch my step. Now for anyone that knows me, you know that that was one tall order!

      It wasn't long before the young lady stormed into my class and placed both fists on my desk and stated with some force, "Do you know who I am?" To which I replied "Yes, I think I do. I don't recognize you, so you must be my new student." She went on. "I am an atheist. I don't have to say the pledge of allegiance and you can't make me." I smiled and said, "I had no intention of trying." Her eyes narrowed a bit as if she were trying to figure me out and then she told me her name and I told her mine. She sat down, not sure what to make of me, not quite sure whether she could trust me or not.

      Time went on and her talent became apparent. Ah, now I had some common ground. We had something to talk about that wasn't going to get me fired. I have to admit, I liked this child. She was smart, talented, and witty but she could also be extremely moody and withdrawn. I felt sorry for her. There was a deep seated sadness about her that made my heart hurt. She didn't really fit in and I am not sure that she really wanted to. She seemed to be a bit of a loner. I think the rest of the kids were kind of scared of her and I think she may have liked that a little. That wall she put up was there for protection, but that wall was no match for Lu.

      Lu Phelps taught Chorus at the time and while Lu was not an "in your face" kind of Christian, she was a Christian nonetheless. When Lu got word of my new student and her sadness she went on a silent mission of her own. Lu started pelting this little girl with prayers everyday. Teachers stand out in the hall in between classes and Lu's room was just down the hall from mine. As my girl walked past, Lu would get real still and I knew she was firing off some prayers. I had told Lu my concerns for the girl and how I had to be careful what I said to her. Lu's response was "Well, we might be forbidden to talk to our students about God but they are helpless against our prayers. Watch me," she said, "I will pray for that child every time I see her." And pray she did. It was almost comical. I can still see Lu's scrunched up face as my girl walked by.

      Now weeks began to pass and there wasn't much change with our newbie. Her mood was much the same but her artwork was fantastic! She was beginning to open up a bit more with me. One day she sat in the counseling chair and proceeded to drop the bomb. "Do you believe in God?" she asked. I took a deep breath and said, "Yes, yes I do." She tilted her head and said "How can you believe in something that isn't there, something that you have not seen or heard or talked to?" To this I answered "I may not have seen him, but I think I feel him from time to time and in a way, I have heard him." She frowned, "How do you feel him?" she asked. I smiled, "I feel him in the sunshine and when I'm outside. I feel him in laughter and sadness, in quiet and in storms. Don't you ever feel that there is something else greater than yourself out there, some far more powerful and positive force? I just find it hard to believe that this is all there is. The universe is so beautifully ordered, so vast, I have to think there is more to it than just this one human life." Oh yeah, I'm gonna get fired now, I thought. She studied me for awhile and our conversation moved onto other less daunting topics. A few weeks went by and no pink slip. I guess I dodged that bullet. Meanwhile, Lu kept shooting her prayer arrows in the hallway.

    Then, one day I gave the kids an assignment. I told them to paint an imaginary creature and write a story about it. My girl turned in the most beautiful painting of a dragon I have ever seen. It was stunning! Then I read the story. I can't remember the story word for word, but I remember it made me cry. I will paraphrase it for you the best I can. It went something like this:

    There once was a little girl. She had the best, most loving parents in the world. Her parents told her that there were no dragons. This created a problem because the little girl liked dragons and wanted very much to believe in them, but she did not want to go against her parents wishes because she loved them very much. So one day she went to her parents and asked "Would you still love me if I believed in dragons?" Her parents hugged her and said that they told her the truth. There were no dragons, but if she wanted to believe in them they would love her no matter what. The little girl went away happy.

      So as I was pondering what to do to help my current students negotiate the trials of middle school, I thought about Lu's prayers and that gave me a great idea for this week's pay it forward project. This week and every week thereafter I will prayer for one student, per class, per day. I have six classes a day so that is six prayers a day. I think I can handle that, and I am curious to see how these little prayer arrows effect my kids and me for that matter. Regardless, I think Lu would be proud!  :)

Laurie

Letters To Nana

      I remember my first year of teaching. To say that I didn't have a clue was the understatement of the century. Boy did I have a lot to learn. No problem, I had 125 middle schoolers that knew it all and had no qualms about showing me the ropes! It was an interesting transition for a woman that did not have an education degree and talked her way out of public speaking class in college. How ironic was that? There I stood in front of 24 students with nothing but my quick wit and a strange sense of humor to get me through. My boss had faith in me though and when it got tough that first year, his faith kept me going.

      Mr. West interviewed me for the two jobs I was qualified to teach: art and spanish. I will never forget that interview. At the end of it he asked me which job I wanted. Now I was desperate for work so I naturally told him I would do whatever he needed me to. He said "That's now what I asked you. Where is your heart? Is it in the art room or the spanish room?" I didn't hesitate. "The art room" I said. "Then art is what I will hire you to teach." His advice was simple. "If you love these kids, you will be good at what you do. If you don't, then you'll know it's not for you." So I took the art job thinking it would only be for a year or so until I could find another opportunity in the design field. That was eleven years ago. Funny how life works out. I see Mr. West from time to time and he always gives me a hug and asks "You still lovin' that job I gave you?" My reply is always the same. "Yes Sir. Best job I ever had."

      Now your first year teaching you have very few sick days and no leave accumulated. If you have young kids which I did at the time you use what little time you do have for when the kids get sick. So at the end of my first year, I had no time left, no days that I could take off. That was a problem because at the end of that school year my grandfather was dying.

      Pop had heart issues and wasn't expected to live very long. I was very close to my grandfather and I simply had to go home. I went into Mr. West's office and told him my dilemma. I needed to go but I had no time. Fortunately it was near the end of the school year and it would only be work days that I would be missing but still I was nervous asking for time off as the new hire. Mr. West asked me about my grandfather and patiently listened to my story. He told me what I had heard him say to other colleagues throughout the year, "Family comes first, go home." I loved him for that. I would have eagerly walked through fire for that man!

      Because of Mr. West, I got to spend two weeks or so with my Pop before he passed. Mr. West had given me a wonderful gift. He allowed me the opportunity to be with my grandfather and tell him everything that was on my heart. When Pop passed I had such peace. There was nothing undone. Nothing unsaid. No regrets. I promised myself that I would make sure that I had that same opportunity with all my loved ones. I started writing my grandmother letters. It allowed me the chance to stay connected to her even though we lived miles apart. I wrote every week for awhile and then as it always does, life got in the way. Every week became every two weeks then every month, then hardly at all. I let life's problems distract me from what really mattered.

Nana's Letters

      Nana's letters are in a box on my dresser. I read them when I'm having a bad day. I love them because they are her words, written by her distinctive hand and they make me feel like I am a part of her daily life. In the beginning her letters expressed her sadness over Pop's passing. She was lost at first, but the letters began to slowly regain their happy tone over time. Oh there were plenty of weeks we went down memory lane.  I love the stories about her and Pop and their lives together. Nana is in her late eighties now and I don't know how much time I have left to talk to her or to relive her stories. For that matter, we don't really know how much time we have left with anyone, do we? All I know is that I am blessed to have two wonderful Nana's that are still here with me and I simply cannot take that for granted any longer. So this week's pay it forward is about relaunching the letter writing campaign. Each week I will write a letter to Nana Browning (we may be the only two people alive that still write letters) or make a phone call to my other Nana, Nan Naylor (she's not much on writing.) Neither of these ladies were ever too busy for me when I was growing up, so I think I can turn off the TV for an hour or so a week and write or call them. They deserve to be a priority again. "Family comes first." Truer words were never spoken. Maybe it's time I started living Mr. West's motto again. It would be a shame to let such wise words go to waste.  :)

Laurie

Later and Greater

      I just celebrated a birthday not too long ago and the folks at work made it so very special and fun. I had a delicious homemade cake, lots of hugs, some cards, a balloon and a slightly off key rendition of the Happy Birthday Song by some of my favorite seventh grade students. It was wonderful! What struck me most about this birthday was that it took so little stuff to make me feel special and so very loved. All it took were some thoughtful people who went out of their way to let me know that they cared. That got me thinking, how could I do that for someone else? How could I make them feel as special as I did on my birthday? How could I pay that forward?

      I rummaged through my desk until I found a copy of an old employee information sheet that had on it addresses, phone numbers, and you guessed it, birthdays! I began checking off the ones in January and found that a friend of mine that had just retired would be celebrating her birthday soon. This friend is a little shy so I won't use her name, instead I will just call her the firefighter. You probably have a few of those at your workplace. The firefighters are the first ones on the scene. They are the ones we depend on to make things right, to ease our stress, to take care of the inevitable, ill timed disaster. In our school the fire may have started because the substitute assigned to a classroom got sick or maybe there was an emergency and no sub could be found. There may have been a traffic pile up so teachers were running late and classrooms needed to be covered. It could have been testing day and some of the volunteers did not show. Whatever sparked the crisis the firefighters are the first ones there to help provide relief in whatever way they can.

      When I first started teaching I remember thinking that those people were crazy. Why on earth would you rush up to the office to willingly give up a valuable planning period without even being asked? No sir, my method was more of a "fly low" variety. Just stay out of the way until the trouble had passed. It is like the car wreck along the side of the road, you have the firefighters, the EMTs  and the police all there to help the injured, clear the wreck and keep the traffic moving. Then you have the dreaded rubber neckers. They are not interested in helping but want to know what happened so they can tell everybody what they saw, snap a picture or two and update their Facebook and Twitter status. Finally there are the  drivers who are cussing at the rubber neckers to get out of the way so they can get to their destination in a timely manner. I would probably fall into the later category. Oh, it is not that I am heartless or rude, I am just a "git r done" kind of girl. I have things to do and work to accomplish and items to check off my to do list so get out of my way and let me rule the world in peace... please.  :)

      My friend however, is a helpful firefighter. She sees the big picture. She understands the concept of reaping and sowing. She is busy planting some seed. Everybody knows that story but recently our preacher added a new twist to it that made me think. He called it the later/greater principle. Basically it means that what you sow comes back, later and greater. Consider the tomato plant. You sow a tiny seed and soon you have a large plant with lots of fruit. Later and greater. The same thing holds for bad seed. It comes back riding that dreaded karma bus, later and greater.

      Thanks in part to my friend, I am beginning to understand why the firefighters of the world do what they do. So to pay it forward this week, I got a balloon, a card, and a yummy chocolate thing from Panera and surprised my favorite firefighter with a birthday gift. She never saw it coming. I also decided that I am going to keep checking that birthday list this year and let my wonderful colleagues know just how much I value and appreciate them.

      Happy Birthday to my favorite firefighter! Hope you have the opportunity to experience many more later and greaters!


  Laurie

Low Maintenance Friends

      I have a good friend named Ann. Ann is the type of lady that is easy to have in your life. She is always there for me, good times and bad. She never judges me, she will take my secrets to the grave and every time I am with her I feel a little better about myself and my situation (whatever that might be at the time).

      Ann is what I like to call a low maintenance friend. Her friendship does not require much time or effort. When we do spend time together we just pick up right where we left off without skipping a beat. It is nice to have people like that in your life but sometimes, I am ashamed to say, I take them for granted. I tend to put a great many things ahead of my friendships and as I get older, I am living to regret that choice. There are times in life when you just need someone to listen. In my world, I can either pay for a therapist or talk to Ann. Ann is much cheaper and way more entertaining than a therapist. She does not try to fix me. She listens and she empathizes and most important of all, she tells me that it will be all right. I think that she sincerely believes it too. Many times I remain unconvinced, but I still leave her feeling more hopeful, nonetheless.

      Ann just became a grandmother. She was overjoyed and showed me pictures of a beautiful baby girl. As I went out to pick up a gift for the baby, I thought about doing the usual, picking out an adorable tiny dress or two, putting it in a cute little gift bag and tossing in a pink signed card shaped like a baby animal. Then I remembered the pay it forward thing. Paying it forward is about taking it a step further. It is about doing something nice for someone beyond the store bought gift. It is about taking the time to tell the people that are important to me just how special they are, right now. So I got out a pretty blank card and I told Ann just how lucky that baby girl is to have her as a grandmother and how fortunate I am to have her as a friend. I hope she realizes how much good she does in the world just by being her. I am so very thankful for my friend and this year, as part of my pay it forward project, I pledge to be a better one in return. Thanks Ann for giving me such a fine example of how it is done!

Laurie