A Night Visitor

Today the most strange thing occurred. I was fell asleep, quite spent, after studying for the LSATs. I suddenly awoke. I was quite tired and wanted to continue sleeping, but for some reason I knew I had to get up. So I through my coat on, grabbed my keys and headed towards my classroom. On my way out, I heard someone knocking on the door. I couldn’t help but wonder at the timing. When I arrived at the door, I was startled to see one of my students rapping on the window. Now this boy and I are close, but he certainly has never expressed any interest in visiting me. I asked him what in the world was going on. He was evasive at best. All I could get out of him was that he had been with his cousin, his mom had taken their brother to the hospital in Pine Ridge and he had no where to go. He seemed shaken. Now he has been acting very strangely over the past few days so I was worried. However, I nonchalantly invited him to come with me to the classroom.

First thing I did was have him call his mom who said she would be by soon. I ceased pressing him on the situation that brought him to my door. After about a half of an hour, his mother arrived outside. I gave the boy a hug and said goodbye. I could tell he was reluctant to leave. Nevertheless, I was stunned when he came running back not ten seconds later and asked me if he could stay with the night with me. Now, I do not think I was imagining the desperation in his eyes. I told him that do that, he would need a signed note from his mom. Agreeing, he dashed off into the night. I held the door open so he could report the news. He ran back after conferencing with his mom and told me that she didn’t know if I could. His communication was unclear and he was clearly nervous. I asked him what he meant by “she didn’t know.” I asked him if she got a note, but he shook his head. I told him that I couldn’t take him without his mother’s consent. He asked me if he could ask again. I nodded and watched him dash over to his mother’s door. This time I could hear yelling at him “I said no!” I turned my head the other way, embarrassed for him. He soon came dashing back and said “She said no.” I gave him a hug and told him to call me if he needed anything. Again, he ran into the night.

I have a very uneasy feeling about the whole situation. This kid is not a clingy kid and though we clearly get along, has never been overly affectionate or even expressed any desire to spend more time with me. This situation clearly stemmed from drama at home. Please join me in praying for my little boy.

B

It is a memory that I hope to take with me to my grave. It was a crystal-clear morning and the sun was just about to reach its peak over the Black Hills of South Dakota. From time to time, by breath came out in little wisps as I walked. The scene before me was a feast for the eyes. Golden hills stretched seemingly endlessly towards the horizon, kissing the sky with its long blades of prairie grass. We were the only humans to be seen within a thirty mile radius. The world was are playground.

On my left hand side, H giggled with glee as she gripped my mitten-clad hand. In hear eagerness, she often tripped and I almost seemed to be carrying her with my one arm, preventing her from falling. On my left, W clung to her beloved teacher. The high pony-tail I gave her earlier that morning swung side to side as we tromped through the hills. In front on me E blazed the path. She was confident in her movement, her stride suggesting that she was much older than 12. M, so much like me when I was her age, defiantly took the most laborious path, jumping from bolder to bolder and refusing any help when at all possible. She embraced the road less traveled. Completing our ensemble was my little warrior,T, who was making revving noises like a truck. He raced back and forth, round and round. Working double duty as the sun during the night and a car during the day, T was a fireball of energy. He embodies all that is good about children, a hunger to explore, a sense of adventure, innocence, compassion and a good imagination. I have talked with mom about arranging to have my future daughter marry him.

The six of us spent a few glorious hours together, walking through the country, tackling a primitive rope swing, trekking around an enormous porcupine the fondly christened "Porky" and gallivanting through the hills. I felt so alive and part of something so much bigger as I zipped up their stubborn zippers, gave up my mittens to fingers more worthy than mine and practically dragged the younger ones up the hill as their sense of adventure outlasted the strength in their feet. I hope to never forget the image of all five them running up that final hill, their waist-long golden hair in beautiful disarray and their smiles broad. I could scarcely breathe at the sight. At that moment the world--no, our world--seemed perfect.

I have included a picture of Red Hawk, a great Oglala leader. I find it very moving that today, five of his descendents roamed the same hills in this photo, land he was willing to die for. In realitiy, the spirit of the Lakota people was seen today in all its glory.

Book the Third

This final posting for the night includes a smorgasbord of info. For example, many of you may be thrilled to know that M arrived on time again today--that makes 7 days straight!! I was so stoked. She barely made it and she wasn't in the best of moods, but we had a good time today and I made a big deal of it.

Reading is still going very well. I am amazed at how much my kids are growing. Please, please pray for a miracle: that ALL my children would be on a fourth grade reading level by year's end.

Social Studies was both good and bad today. On the bad side, most of the 3rd grade did very poorly on their tests. I was very disappointed. They had a million reasons why they didn't study but they were just excuses. It was a wake up call for both of us.

Also, two of my students were talking during the test. I told them to stop once. Then I told them I would give the both Fs if they said another word. To my surprise, they did again! And so, I got up and took their tests. They both looked a little stunned. I simply said, "I warned you." Later, one of the girls timidly came up to my desk. There were tears in her eyes. She told me "Miss Brendsel, I was only asking how to spell a word." I explained to her that I had no way of knowing if she and T were cheating. Also, I had warned them not to talk anymore. But then as I looked into her very remorseful eyes, I remembered a time in second grade when a sub grabbed by the arm and told me to "keep my eyes on my own paper." I was mortified. I remember that the only reason I was looking at the kid's paper was because I had bet him that he couldn't get every word right on his test and I was just checking his status. I was NOT cheating. I was humiliated by her accusation and when I looked at W, I remembered that moment and felt a wave of compassion and grace. I told her that I believed her and that I would give her grace this one time. I therefore allowed both children to retake the test at lunch. After all, the purpose of the test was to see what they were learning, not determining if they were getting into Harvard.

And finally, today I got offered the JV Girls Basketball coach position. The school secretary and someone from HR plotted together to get me to fill this vacant position. To take on this job, I would have to quit the after school program. It would also require that I leave school early on game days and attend practices every day until however long. Worst of all, it would require that I interact with teenagers...Yikes! I went over to the high school and met the head coach--the cousin of one of my students and the secretary's son. He seemed nice enough and like he knew his stuff. As for the girls, I will admit that they scared. They looked like a tough bunch. Natives are naturally built taller than most people from back home and this was very evident from the team. I am fairly tall but many of the girls towered over me and looked as if they could break me in half and eat me up for dinner.

I'll be honest-- I was afraid. I was not afraid that they would hurt me, but that when (not if) they were disrespectful, that I would not know how to deal. I can't exactly tell a 17 year-old girl that she is not being "a world changer." Can you imagine her reply? I can, and it includes a lot of expletives. I have known this for a long time--my gifting is with younger children. That is where God has called me. I am not willing to miss class time and abandon the after school program to coach, even if it is a sport I once loved. I am called to love my babies. And so, I am going tomorrow I am going to respectfully say No--a big deal for me.

Well, I had better get back to work!

B

Book the Second

In other news...

My blizzard-bound children have finally returned to school. I was truly overjoyed. In fact, there presence caused today to be the first day we had perfect attendance in a long time. They add such a beautiful dimension to our class.


In total, the J girls missed 10 school days. However, in reality they probably received as good, if not better, education at home. Their mom, J, is an amazing teacher and a good friend. Actually, J reminds me a lot of my research partner from Uganda, who lives in Alaska, is getting married in December and moving to Thailand. They both are always doing crazy things. For instance, J has strep so she told me that she was using all sort of objects to scrape the white stuff off her throat. I could just see her using a fork to scrape the bacteria off her throat. Gross! And at church the other day, I noticed that she was wearing glasses. I was shocked when she pulled them from her face and they snapped back! One of the babies broke one arm of the glasses so she broke the other off and attached elastic instead! I laughed so hard. She is always doing funny things like that. But I guess she has to having seven kids to take care of with no running water, heat or electricity.

I am having Thanksgiving with their family on Thursday. I can't wait to see how the are going to cook a 20 pound turkey in a wood stove!

P.S. In some ways, J reminds me of Annie Oakley, so I have included a picture of the famous tamer of the West.

Book the First

I have a lot to talk about today, so perhaps I will do so in pieces. I shall call this "Book the First."

Chapter 1: The Ear Infection

Thanks to horrendous family genetics (thanks daddy), my ear canals are defective and do not properly drain. The result? Frequent and extremely painful ear aches. Indeed, since I was a child, I have been prone to these attacks which cause me to feel as if a balloon was being blown up inside of my head. I usually get one a year. However, I got two in Thailand--one of which was the most painful in my life. The last one I had was a birthday present in Uganda. I ended up crying the entire night as I lay on the cool tile floor.

This weekend, I continued this tradition by getting yet another ear infection. However, this time the grace of God, a lot of love and a whole lot more common sense caused me to act in the much early stages of the pain. You see, the familiar dull throbbing pain started on Saturday. It proceeded to get worse on Sunday morning, but I tried to remain optimistic. My fellow teacher, fellow church-goer and close friend here told me that I should go to Urgent Care in Rapid. (R is kinda like my Auntie. Her hubby says that I would be the perfect daughter for her. I told her I was already happily taken, Mommy!) However, as you already know if you are a faithful blog reader, I despise Rapid City. I brushed her suggestion aside, citing my lost insurance card (which was true). However, when my other excellent friend, R, suggested that I go to the clinic, I thought perhaps I should. So I called R and told her I would make a search for my card. However, I only planned on putting forth a tiny bit of effort since I didn't really want to go. In fact, I sent up a Hail Mary prayer that went something like this "God, if you want me to go to Rapid, help me find my insurance card." I might as well have said, "P.S. Keep it hidden!" But, as you may have expected the very next pair of jeans I picked up had my card underneath. Now, this is a modern day miracle as my room is so messy, I half to part-time as a bulldozer to get to my bed! Needless, to say, I humbly asked R to take me to Rapid.

I can now say that I am truly thankful I went. I was able to get a diagnosis and double dose of Amoxicyllin for just $25! I love insurance! Also, the medicine prevented me from experiencing the most severe stages of the ear infection and I am happy to report that I am now on the mend.

Chaperone

Sometimes I wonder if I am qualified to chaperone field trips...especially since I had to hop over two barricades, scale a wall and slide down a fence to get un-locked-out of my school today. In spite of my doubts, today I chaperoned twenty third graders from our after-school program on a field trip to Rapid.

The day started off hectic. I had a couple of kids try to sneak onto the bus, though they had never been to Wo Lakota. There wasn't enough room on the bus for K-3 so my kids had to triple up. Plus, I had to sit in the very back of the bus, where suspension is not existent. By the time we had driven three miles, one girl had spilled blue Power Ade on my copy of Crime and Punishment, I was nauseous from being jostled and had been deemed a loser by a nine-year-old for not ever having kissed a boy (though she didn't dare use the term 'loser').

Things only got more interesting as the day wore on. I had to gather the lunch request of 20 crazy kids which was not a fun task. You cannot imagine how many ways a basic cheeseburger can be ordered! When we got to Wendy's things were even more chaotic as I attempted to match each box of fries and hamburger with its salivating owner. To my annoyance, several of the children whined about the delay or pouted about getting a smaller drink--though I will admit in hindsight that the complaints were minimal considering the delay. In fact, a few customers in the restaurant commented on how well-behaved my kids were. I did have to make little MM stand without a chair because she kept leaning it back (I taped it to the floor in the classroom).

After our experience at Wendy's we headed to the movie theatre where each child was allowed to pick out a huge box of candy, a super-size-me-size soda (in addition to the soda from Wendy's) and share a bag of popcorn so big, only the Brendsel clan would even attempt to return for seconds. I could only shake my head and wonder why people questioned the diabetes rate on the Rez.

The kids were allowed to see one of three movies: High School Musical 3, Beverly Hills Chihuahua, Bolt and Madagascar: Escape to Africa. I would rather eat Mopani worms again than watch HS Musical 3 with boy crazy 3rd graders. Any movie with the words "Beverly Hills" and "Chihuahua" were out for me. And since I never saw the first Madagascar, Bolt was the only remaining option. So, I arranged all the children in line by movie presence and waited to watch Bolt.

Unfortunately, the experience was dampened by Hannah Montana. Remember her? She called little M fat. She started sobbing in line. I was really, really upset. I pulled Hannah aside and really reamed her. She was near tears by the time I was done with her. I don't know if I have the authority to temporarily suspend her from Wo Lakota, but I am formulating a re-education plan for Hannah. I am sick of her biting inappropriate remarks. It is time she was held accountable.

As for M, she was really, really hurt. The Wo Lakota director came over and very forcefully told her to wipe away her tears and remember that "Sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you." I was extremely annoyed. Does anyone actually believe that is true? One word has the power to wound the soul for decades. When she left, I told M that I knew those words hurt and that she could cry all she wanted. But I am afraid her little soul is wounded.

We went to the movie, which was surprisingly good, and returned home without further incidence. It was a far more pleasant day (besides Hannah's awful remark) than I had imagined.

Letter of Comfort

One of my favorite parts of my day is our two hour literacy block in the morning. Initially, I hated it because I didn’t have a clue what was going on. However, I am now getting the hang of things and it is truly amazing watching a child develop a love of reading.

Our Writing block follows reading and last an hour each day. I teach a skill for about fifteen minutes and then leave them to produce whatever they wish.

Today, I told my students that one of our staff members had lost a brother. The situation was really tragic and highly preventable. This particular staff member has been nothing but kind to me and I can tell she is grieving so deeply. I thought the kids might encourage her so I proposed that some of them write her letters during independent writing time. One of my students, little A, wrote the following piece. I have clarified meaning where necessary as some of you may not be skilled in the art of decoding kid-speak:

Dear S-

But im [I am] sorry what happend to your brother I wise [wish] I can say something to him. I will pray for him every time berore [before] I will go bed and we all love you every day[.] You can put food out thein and pray to him.

We love him.

by A.

I was so touched by this special message I made a photo copy for myself and nearly cried. A is one of my favorite students as he has such a sweet spirit and is so eager to please. He has had a hard life and such compassion coming from an eight-year-old encourages me regarding the future of our world.

B

The Children

So I thought I should give some updates on the children.

I guess I should start with bad news. Do you remember B? He was the boy that I thought had some evil spirit over him or something. Well, he has not been doing well. A few weeks ago he had to be restrained after punching and striking several people. Yesterday, he slapped a girl. And yes, he is still in school. Though he has been suspended several times, he just repeats the behavior. He has not been to my class in such a long--since before Halloween. He told my aide that he is scared of my class. I know that is a bunch of lies. He just knows I will make him work and not put up with his games. I am not afraid of him, though both of the other teachers are. So, in short, we really need to pray for him. I don't think he will be here much longer.

S, my little attitude girl is really progressing. I am really pleased to tell you that she is definitely reading on a higher level. She currently is hovering around the end of 1st grade, beginning of 2nd grade mark. Yes, this is not amazing, but remember that she came in at a Kindergarten level. Attitude wise, she still breaks a lot of our rules. However, she hasn't been as rebellious of late.

Finally, little M. I am so, so happy to tell you that she has been on time to school every day for the last five days! This is a huge feat for a girl who was tardy over 25 days last quarter. I am always quick to point this out and praise her constantly. We get along real well. She will eat a entire Hershey bar and bring me the last precious square, which is usually a bit melted after being cupped in her hand so long. The other day she brought me a half-consumed bottle of lukewarm strawberry milk. Pushing back thoughts of bacteria, I thank her as if she is giving me the moon. Her eyes just light up. I love that girl.

The other kids continue to do well. They are all progressing in their reading and I usually only have to deal with minor misbehavior. However, I did have two children in the after-school program sneak out. That was both scary and embarrassing for me as a teacher. I really reamed them the next day. As a consequence, they are banned from the after-school program and must make-up the two hours by coming in during recess--a kid's worst fear.

I have also realized that I am now able to observe when a child has deviate from his or her normal attitude. When I notice this shift, I take the child aside and ask him or her the reason--and there is almost always a reason. Today, my kids were really disengaged in times. After stopping class and acting what was up, I found out that one had gone to her Aunt's funeral (she froze to death in Rapid last week). Another was pulled out of bed to make an emergency trip to Rapid, not getting back to late. Still another was up late into the night preparing to move the next day. And so again I am reminded that when my children come to school, they come from difficult lives and backgrounds--lives I can never understand.

Well, keep my babies in your prayers,

B

Lock-Down

Two days ago, I was tossing and turning in my bed, wondering how my class should ever escape should a gunman ever arrive on campus, as our classroom is windowless. I thought about possible hiding spots, techniques to overpower the gunman, etc. Today, I was forced to recall those dreams with far more urgency.

It was a long yesterday. I arrived home at 10:40, only to realize I have forgotten to cook the six pizzas in my fridge for our pizza party the next day. Needless to say, I didn't get to bed until late into the midnight hour. Therefore, I woke up exhausted this morning. Things didn't improve when I arrived to find that my room had not been cleaned for the second day in a row. Normally this is not a problem as I usually clean it, but the mud has been so think of late there was dried dirt everywhere in our classroom. Plus, I was really frustrated to have to give my kids a worthless test from our curriculum simply because the textbook told me to.

However, things really took a turn for the worst just after I sent one of my students to the office to go home because he was real sick. As I sent him off, I heard a loud knocking on the door. My former teacher's aide is certainly not her cheerful self and practically shoves the sick student in the door. In a short voice, she whispered "We're on lock-down mode!"

For those of you who don't know what lock-down mode is, it means that there has been a threat to the safety of the students in the school and nobody is to go in or out of the classrooms. I could tell that this was not a test so I ordered my students to get in a circle against the wall of the classroom. I flipped off the lights and whispered the news to my children. I explained to them that something may be wrong and that we needed to be quiet. I tried to keep talking so as not to scare them. We sat there, huddled together for about fifteen minutes. Most of the kids were only mildly frightened as we still did not know what was going on. Suddenly, I noticed the light was still on in the classroom next door--the one that is connected to mind. So I tip-toed over and peeked into the classroom. I was shocked to find that they were all acting completely normal. I asked the teacher if she knew that we were in lock-down mode. She nodded in the affirmative but explained to me that we were supposed to remain calm and conduct everything as normal, except that no one was aloud in or out. This seemed ridiculous to me for a number of reasons, many I am sure you could imagine. However, sensing that there was no serious threat at hand, I allowed the children to read silently at their desks with one dim light on.

We waited like that for two nearly two hours. And there were some scary moments. The kids were calm as I explained that it was probably some punk kid in the high school who brought a knife to school. One of my students asked me what I would do if someone came in with a gun. I tried to made a lame joke, but I was asking myself the same question. How could I protect my children in a room with no windows but two doors and virtually no place to hide? Another girl, with very serious eyes told me that we needed to go around the circle and find out who knew karate and kung-fu. I laughed in spite of the seriousness of the situation. I wish I could be so Innocent to assume that a karate kick would stop an angry kid with a gun.

Finally, as quickly as it started, my principal came by and told me the lock-down had been lifted. I later found out that I was right--a punk kid did come to the school with a weapon. No one was hurt and from what I could gather, no one was in real danger.

I imagine I will be processing today for years to come. However, one thing I immediately took away was the frailty of human life. I always joke with my children "I will protect you." I shield them from bees, guard them from ghosts, chase away men dogs. But I realized today that this really isn't true. I can't stop their parents from beating them, the stranger from driving drunk or even a angry and bitter kid from coming to school with a gun. That, I must give to my Father.

B

Summer

So over the last few days I have started to plan what I will be doing this next summer--never a good thing. I decided it was time to start prepping for law school. That's right, I want to be a lawyer...I think. I am very intersted in studying Human Rights Law, with an International emphasis. Who knows at what point this would happen in my life--maybe the fall of 2010, maybe not. However, I am going to take the LSATs in June, so I need to get studying.

In other news, I have been trying to figure out what I will do with the rest of my summer. I have thought about going back to Uganda and teaching either street kids or former child soldiers. But I also really, really want to work in the Middle East or Central Asia. Afghanistan, Egypt and Pakistan all sound like they have potential.

Oddly enough, while doing some research, I came upon Global Expeditions website. That is the organization I went to Botswana with for 2 months when I was 16. Ironically, when I clicked the link to view their trip to Uganda, I was startled to see this picture: http://www.globalexpeditions.com/projects.php?ProjectName=Uganda

Yep, it's me. That 16 year old me in Botswana, advertising for a trip to Uganda. I thought it was weird that of all the pictures Global Expeditions have and all the places they could have put it, the stuck it on the Uganda page. Even more crazy is the fact that I found it. So weird.

If anyone has any ideas of where I should go or what I should do, please let me know.

Regards,

B

Common Sense, Or Lack There Of

Yesterday, my baby sister told me in a very non-babysister tone, that she was the one with common sense and I was the smart one. I was very much ruffled by this declaration! I think I have common sense and I certainly am not more intelligent than the average person. I got a bit defensive and declared that I had common sense. There was silence on the line for a bit, until she firmly declared "You do not." Last night, as I was tossing and turning, tormented by her remark, I remembered that big sister had also once said the same thing! Outraged, I realized that my sisters thought I was common-sense less!

This morning, I thought perhaps that I should have a blog vote--let my readers decided if I have common sense or not. But then I got to thinking of the time I locked myself out of the school and had to huddle for warmth in the box of my truck. I also remembered when I spray painted my face yellow and left my truck lights on. I tried to forget how my truck rolled away yesterday because I parked it on a hill in neutral or how I managed to unfreeze my emergency brake only to backup myself into a snow drift the next day. But thankfully I forgot how I once had to spend the night in my classroom because I lost my keys and how I drove around for two months before I realized I didn't have car insurance.

So, all of events may suggest to the untrained eye that I indeed have no common senese--or at least rotten luck. But I know better. I mean, who could endure all of those trials yet remain unscathed and still be in love with my job. Beat that sisters!

B

At Your Service

Some of my more loyal readers have requested that I do a better job of updating my blog. Though I can make no promises in terms of long-term improvement, I will make an effort.

I am currently sitting at my desk, munching on double-stuffed Oreos and drinking lukewarm reducedfat milk. I have been here since 7:15, waiting. Today is round two of parent-teacher conferences. I really can't believe that I am a teacher. I alone administered the final pen strokes, deciding a child's academic fate. I learned how heart-wrenching it is to give out F's and the absolute jubilation one feels after a struggling child has earned and A. And it was me who filled in the comment box, indicating the academic and social progress of their child. I remembered how much I treasured those words as a child, desparte for the praise of my teacher. Needless to say, I wrote with care.

Meeting with parents has been great. I have had no raging parents--something I was really afraid of. Three of my parents who had children get Ds in my Social Studies class came in--all of whom said they never saw the study guides I sent home. I got their emails and promised to email them and let them know when I was sending one out.

In other news....a prospective TFA candidate from Messiah called me and interviewed me for a paper she is writing. She also had a lot of questions about teaching the Native population. It was really, really cool to speak with someone from Messiah. Although I rarely think about Messiah now--I am far too busy--I miss it when I remember.

Well, that is all for now.

Peace

Why me?

Since I was a very, very young girl, I remember thinking to myself that there was more to life than most people realize. Long before I was a believer, I felt in my soul that people were missing something and I did not want to be one of those people.

As I grew older, I began to find glimpses of this something more--of humanity's true potential--in the books I read. I became addicted to the stories that could transport me to another world. I identified with so many of the characters, especially their failings. Some books I would read over and over with again, praying that that character's strengths would somehow leak into my soul. I saw myself as a heroine. Indeed, for a long time, I could picture my life as some dramatic quest. Ordinary challenges like tough math tests or angry teammates were transformed into cosmic battles with ferocious dragons or clever ghouls. The trials I faced in this heroic journey were numerous and deadly, but always, I was sustained by a greater power and always, victory was reached at last.

More and more, I am beginning to feel that books like the Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia and A Voice in the Wind are so moving to me because there is more than a little truth to them. I believe that there is a great battle of good and evil that is going on all around us, though most of us are so unaware. In fact, this battle is even more important than the battle for Middle Earth or for Narnia. This battle is for the very souls of humankind. There are some people are indeed rising up to wage war against the enemy, but most like the hobbits of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, would rather pretend or disbelieve the reality of the presence of this battle. And oddly enough, I feel like Frodo when he said to Gandalf
"I wish it need not have happened in my time,"
"So do I, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that has been given us.

That is how I feel--that I am living in such dark times, where the battle around us in more intense than ever before because the enemy knows his end is near. But as this battle rages, I feel like I have been entrusted with something few have been entrusted with and I don't understand why. I think Frodo captures my cry when he said to Gandalf,

"Why did it come to me? Why was I chosen?"
"Such questions cannot be answered. You may be sure that it was not for any merit that others do not possess: not for power or wisdom, at any rate. But you have been chosen, and you must therefore use such strength and heart and wits that you have."

Oddly enough, Gandalf's remarks remind me of our Lord when declares that He chose us rather than we choosing Him and that He has chosen the foolish of the world to shame the wise and the weak to shame the strong. But unlike Frodo Baggins of the Shire, I can have the peace of knowing the end of the great battle in which I now fight.

I Should Have Chose Hawaii

What was I thinking. They have Teach for America Hawaii. I mean, those kids need a lot of love too...At least this has been my line of thinking since the big blizzard of 08 hit Kyle, South Dakota.

Now I am no wimp. I grew up in Montana and I know how ugly weather can get. But the last few days are different. It started to snow around 3:00. The flakes were huge--the size of quarters. But what is a little snow? Well, it isn't the snow that is bad--it is the wind. The wind has been blowing at about 60 mph. Visibility is around 5 feet. My power went out around midnight--which meant no heat and no stove. I woke up to the same nasty weather. I couldn't listen to the radio and find out if there was school since I had no power. I have no phone, no radio, no television and no Internet. I therefore had no idea if there was school this morning. And so, I tried to drive to the school. That would have been a great idea had my truck started. I tried to get back into my building only to find that ice had formed in the key hole of the outside door of my apartment. I was really scared to be locked out, but I eventually shoved it in there and returned to my frigid apartment.

I found out school was canceled when another teacher in the apartment knocked on my door. So, I went back to bed and slept until noon. I think got up and had canned tuna as I could not cook anything since my stove is electric. Then, I washed my dishes and went back to bed until 3:00 at which time I decided had better go to school. I put on my army combat boots, my yellow rain jacket (yes Banny, I still have it) and my babushka shawl from Uganda (do you remember that one Rebekah)? I then headed out into the storm to my truck. Sadly, my truck was stuck because of a thick layer of ice that had built up behind the truck. So, I went back to my truck and packed an overnight bag. I stuffed school clothes, a flashlight, a toothbrush and a comb into my bag, then I started off on the 1/4 journey towards the school. I was the only person alive out there. It was toasty in my yellow jacket and my boots seem to be waterproof. I made it to the school and now I am here, in my cozy classroom, preparing to spend the night. Yes, I would rather sleep in my classroom then spend the night on the floor than once again brave those elements! Yes, I should have chose Hawaii.

हीलिंग रैन

It has been a very emotional week having to deal with the combination of my uncle's death and the absolute insanity of Halloween at Little Wound.

First, I should note that I despise Halloween. My family has not celebrated it for years and I have grown to dislike it more and more. The disgusting horror films, the vandalism, the raunchy costumes--it all depresses me. So, when I found out that all of Friday was dedicated to Halloween rather than reading and writing, I was less than excited.

It should come as no surprise then that Friday was one of the longest days of my life. Yes, it was cute to see all the little kids in their costumes, but some of them were dressed in horrifying attire. Seeming my babies dressed as demons and Chucky dolls was disturbing.

They day was absolute chaos. There was a two hour costume contest followed by the candy trail. The school buys hundreds of dollars worth of candy and distributes it to the kid (and we wonder why diabetes in so high). Along the way, the kids enter different parts of the school, some of which have been transformed into "spook houses." The most infamous spook house around is located in the school bus garage. Most of my students refused to go in. A handful decided to brave the journey. It was horrible. I didn't think it was a bit scary, but my children were nearly hysterical with fear--sobbing. It's because of the trashy horror movies they watch. They have unnatural fears of chainsaws, clowns, dolls, etc. Every day items become objects of terror because of movies they watch. I decided then and there that I would never take my children into a spook house again.

By the end of the day, I was worn out. I would rather teach ten hour days than have another chaos-filled day like this last Friday. Therefore, I was in no mood at the end of the day to cater to trick-or-treaters the whole night. Thankfully, my reprieve came in the form of a very sick student of mine. She threw up on the gym floor that day somewhere between the first and second grade costume parade. She went home soon after. However, I took care of her in the evening while the six other children in her family went trick-or-treating. She only threw up on the floor once, so we had a good time. When she left, I spent the rest of the night hiding out waiting for the kids to go home. I returned to my house late that night, surviving my first Kyle Halloween.