UPDATE ~ A Change of Direction. . .

For those readers, out in cyber-space, we at Porter's Primary have had a slight change of direction ... we have decided that for the upcoming school year, Alisdair will attend Heritage Christian School.  It is a small school (with about 70 students) in Battleford.  Heritage is affiliated with the Living Skies School Division, although for many many years it was a private Christian School. 

You can learn more about Heritage Christian School on their website which can be found here.  Some brief facts, from the site, follow:

"Heritage Christian School is a Christian school offering instruction to students enrolled in Pre-K through grade 12, located in Battleford, Saskatchewan Canada. We are an Independent Christian School in association with the Living Sky School Division of Saskatchewan."

"Heritage Christian School is dedicated to the mental, physical and spiritual well-being of all our students. Our school challenges our kids in a small student to teacher ratio in a cooperative learning environment. Our curriculum meets provincial requirements, is fully accredited, and includes a Biblical focus in all subjects. Our school takes regular educational, yet fun field trips. Heritage Christian School is dedicated to enhancing family relationships through hands-on, parent involvement in their child's education, and to this end we have regularly scheduled Home School days each month where children can work on specially designated assignments to be completed at home, keeping parents involved with, and aware of what their children are doing in school."

In order to attend Heritage Christian School, many changes have had to be made to our family routines.  Alisdair will have to "board" at Grandma and Grandpa's house approximately four days per week and will take a bus from a nearby corner store to Battleford for school.  It will mean a lot of driving back and forth, dropping him off and picking him up, but we trust this is the right decision for this time in his life.

Yesterday, Alisdair's class had a "burial" ceremony as part of their first day of class activities.  Each child in the room wrote on a piece of paper something that they couldn't do.  For example: "I can't do my times tables."  The sheets of paper were then put in a mayonnaise jar and sealed.  The jar was then wrapped in several plastic bags, to keep it from getting wet.  This "package" was then buried on the school grounds.  To make sure no one dug the jar up, they put a marker indicating there was an underground power line at the site.  Then, at the end of the school year, the class will go out and dig up their "I Can'ts" (as an illustration of death and resurrection).  And, I am sure many of the "I Can'ts" will, by then, be "I Cans!"  

Meanwhile, Isobel is excited to be attending Grade 1 at the local elementary school.  Yesterday was "Muffin Morning" when the parents drop off their children and socialize over coffee and go to a short assembly, introducing the new teachers and outlining a little information about the new school year.  Isobel has one of the "new teachers" -- Miss Massey (who has come from Ontario) as both the regular Kindergarten teacher and the Grade 1/2 teacher are out on Maternity Leave for the 2011/2012 academic year.

We look forward to discovering how the new school year unfolds.  We plan to continue our blog -- just in a slightly different direction.  We will still read interesting books, do experiments and make lapbooks etc. - especially since Alisdair and I will have time "alone" on Fridays when he is off school and Isobel is still attending regular classes.  Stay tuned for upcoming posts!

BOOK REVIEWS ~ "The New Treasure Seekers" - By: E. Nesbit

Alisdair and I finished reading "The New Treasure Seekers" last night ~ while we were waiting for Isobel as she was participating in an evening Daily Vacation Bible School program.  The book is narrated by Oswald Bastable (in the third person) but was authored by Edith (or just plain E.) Nesbit.  We have already read three other titles by this British writer, (two of these featured other tales about the Bastable children), so we enjoyed learning more about Oswald and his siblings.  Sometimes, for a joke, I call Alisdair "Oswald!"

This story was first published in 1904.  It's amazing how we can still delight in the antics of the Bastable children more than 100 years after the author first wrote of them with pen and paper. 

The first chapter tells a tale about "H. O." (which is short for Horace Octavius Bastable) who attempts to stowaway on a trip to Rome with his newlywed "Uncle" and his wife.  Luckily he was discovered and soon returned to his home!

Then the Bastable children attempt to perform an act of charity -- collecting money to give "poor folk" a nice Christmas.  They do manage to gather some funds and purchase ingredients to make a Christmas pudding.  However, everything soon backfires.  "We washed our hands as well as the currants.  I have sometimes thought we did not get all the soap off the currants.  The pudding smelt like a washing-day when the time came to cut it open.  And we washed a corner of the table to chop the suet on.  Chopping suet looks easy till you try" (Page 29).  Later, they tried to boil the pudding, but due to a lack of coal it was not cooked as long as it required.

"We went out into the streets.  They were pretty quiet -- nearly everybody was eating its Christmas dessert.  But presently we met a woman in an apron.  Oswald said very politely -- 'Please, are you a poor person?'  And she told us to get along with us.  The next we met was a shabby man with a hole in his left boot.  Again Oswald said, 'Please, are you a poor person, and have you any poor children?'  The man told us not to come any of our games with him, or we should laugh on the wrong side of our faces.  We went on sadly.  We had no heart to stop and explain to him that we had no games to come.  The next was a young man near the Obelisk.  Dora tried this time.  She said, 'Oh, if you please we've got some Christmas pudding in this basket, and if you're a poor person you can have some.'  'Poor as Job,' said the young man in a hoarse voice, and he had to come up out of a red comforter to say it.  We gave him a slice of the pudding, and he bit into it without thanks or delay.  The next minute he had thrown the pudding slap in Dora's face, and was clutching Dicky by the collar.  'Blime if I don't chuck ye in the river, the whole bloomin' lot of you!' he exclaimed.  The girls screamed, the boys shouted, and though Oswald threw himself on the insulter of his sister with all his manly vigour, yet but for a friend of Oswald's, who is in the police, passing at that instant, the author shudders to think what might have happened, for he was a strong young man and Oswald is not yet come to his full strength, and the Quaggy runs all too near" (Pages 35 and 36).

Other adventures follow the children.  Archibald, an unpleasant cousin, comes to visit and the revenge for his nasty behaviour comes in the form of a bar of "Maple's dark bright navy-blue indelible dye - won't wash out" (Page 55).  Archibald thinks it is soap and accidentally dyes himself all over.  The colour only began to wear off days later!

The children go to visit the Editor (who publishes Albert's Uncle's stories) and they tell him how wonderful a particular chapter of the story was.  Unfortunately, the children have actually read the tale elsewhere, prior to it being printed in that particular magazine, and so the Editor realizes something isn't as it should be.

Another day they rent a room to a man who is mentally ill and who draws artwork on the walls of the cottage in the night!  They get involved in a smuggling operation and go door-to-door selling goods without a license (and are caught by a policeman who wishes to pursue charges.)  The children also get into other scrapes, during the course of the novel, but they always manage to get themselves extricated from their troubles, in the end.

In the final chapter, "The Poor and Needy" (Page 213) Oswald says:  "When you think about yourself there is a kind of you that is not what you generally are but that you know you would like to be if only you were good enough.  Albert's uncle says this is called your ideal of yourself.  I will call it your best I, for short.  Oswald's 'best I' was glad to go and talk to that boy whose father was in prison, but the Oswald that generally exists hated being out of the games.  Yet the whole Oswald, both the best and the ordinary, was pleased that he was the one chosen to be a detachment of consolation."

I could relate to this explanation as I know there are gaps between "the person I am" and "the person I wish to be -- or think I am in my own mind."

"The New Treasure Seekers" is both a thought provoking and amusing piece of literature from a bygone day.  It's well worth the read!

***

"Oswald is a delightful narrator and the stories

 he tells are among Nesbit's best." -- Gore Vidal

MUSIC ~ "Let Thy Mantle Fall On Me" ~ By: Floyd W. Hawkins

During the week of July 18th through 22nd, Alisdair attend a Daily Vacation Bible School at the Church of God in Christ Mennonite, just outside of Neilburg.  On the Friday evening, the children and teachers presented a program for parents and members of the community to attend.

Alisdair's group recited Psalm 100 and Psalm 23 (Verses 1 through 6) before singing a hymn I had never heard before.  It was called "Let Thy Mantle Fall On Me."  Both the words and music were written by Floyd W. Hawkins (it was copyrighted in 1962 by the Lillenas Publishing Company).

The words of this hymn should be the heart cry of each and every believer.  It was very encouraging to hear the young folk seeking an outpouring of more of the Holy Spirit upon their lives.  Perhaps you are also unfamiliar with this song.  Here are the words:

LET THY MANTLE FALL ON ME

1) Elijah was God's prophet;

Elisha stood close by,

And ere the prophet left him,

He heard his servant cry:

CHORUS:

Let thy mantle fall on me!

Let thy mantle fall on me! (on me!)

A double portion of Thy spirit,

Lord, Let thy mantle fall on me!

2) Then Elijah made the promise

That, if faithful he would be,

His petition would be granted,

And God's glory he would see

3) As Elijah rose to heaven

In a chariot of fire,

He did not forget his servant,

Who expressed one strong desire.

4) In the Upper Room they waited --

"Twas the faithful Christian band -

And their pray'r was heard and answered

Over in the gloryland.

5) That pray'r of early Christians

Long ago and far away

Is the cry of all God's children;

And He's just the same today.

BOOK REVIEWS ~ "Under the Quilt of Night" By: Deborah Hopkinson

Another book about escaping from slavery is "Under the Quilt of Night" by Deborah Hopkinson.  The illustrations in this volume are by James E. Ransome.

In "A Note About the Story" at the back of the picture book, we learn this is an "imagined journey.  It is a fictitious story inspired by the Underground Railroad, and it mixes fact and folklore.  The Underground Railroad, of course was not actually underground.  Nor was it a railroad.  It was a secret network of people who helped others to escape slavery.  It was most active in the 1850's, in the years just before the Civil War."

Hopkinson also tells her readers:  "Just as we don't learn the name of the girl who tells this story, we don't know the names of most who escaped on the Underground Railroad.  Activities took place in secret and weren't written down.  Those fleeing slavery faced incredible danger and hardships.  The free blacks and whites who helped them also faced risks.  Many stories have grown up around quilts and the Underground Railroad.  Some think quilts included hidden meanings or were hung to mark safe houses, while others believe these stories are simply folklore."

"We do know that fugitives were hidden in many ways, sometimes in secret rooms or tunnels, other times in wagons with false bottoms, or simply under straw in back of carts.  We also know from songs like "Follow the Drinking Gourd" that enslaved people used the North Star to help them locate north, where Canada and freedom lay.  In this story, the girl finds a star someone has carved in the floor as a hopeful sign of freedom."

"When I was a fourth grader, the Underground Railroad was mentioned in just a few lines in our history textbook.  Today many books and Internet sites have information about this part of our history.  In communities people are working together to remember family stories and to find and preserve Underground Railroad routes and houses.  But some of our past may always be hidden from us, " explains Hopkinson.

... a quilted pattern on the first and last pages of the book ...

"Under the Quilt of Night" is composed of six sections titled "Running," "Waiting,"  "Watching," "Hiding," "Traveling," and "Singing."  The text is almost poetical.  Under the heading, "Running," on the first page of the book we read, "I'm young but my legs are strong.  I can run." 

... RUNNING ...

The text continues, "I run so fast, I lead the way; the ones I love race right behind.  Pounding dirt and grass, jumping rocks and roots, my feet make drumbeats on the path."

The next stanza says, "I'm running far away from the farm where the master worked us, hoeing and picking, mending and sewing till my hands got raw."

The master is hot on the trail of the slaves.  The girl says he wants to track her and "chase me till my breath is gone, fence me in to be a slave again."  But the unnamed girl, at the heart of the story, will have none of that and says, ". . . I'll make my steps quick whispers in the dark.  I'll run where he won't find me, under the quilt of night."  The group of slaves find a hidden boat alongside a river and cross safely to the other side.

The next section is called, "Waiting."  It is written in such a way that you can imagine what it was like to be with the slaves awaiting nightfall.  "Runaways like us must hide in daylight.  So come morning we crouch in the bushes till night.  It's hot.  Sweat dribbles down my neck.  Thorns rake my arms and legs.  In the still afternoon, mosquitoes whine and tease just like the overseer's children did.  All I can do is wait for the cover of darkness.  Oh, if only I could dance into the open and sing so loud the stars would hear and hurry out to guide our way!" 

"Watching" is the next part of the book.  Hopkinson writes, "We run and hide, run and hide.  My cuts sting, my bites itch.  I'm hungry all the time.  One day at dusk we make our way to the patch of woods at the edge of a town.  There are more houses here, people, roads -- danger.  The others rest, while I keep watch for a sign from the Underground Railroad -- the friends who will help us get free. . . . Then I see a woman walk through her yard wearing a plain dress.  On her arm she carries a quilt to air.  She hangs it over the fence, then looks to the woods, just once.  I stare with all my might.  I know what to look for:  in most quilts, center squares are red for home and hearth.  But these centers are a dark, deep blue.  This house hides runaways!"

"I'm brave enough to go forward first.  When at last the stars are up, I pull the darkness around me and run through long, wet grass.  My foot trembles on the wooden step, and my knock is shivery and quick -- like the beating of my heart.  'Who's there?' comes a voice.  I swallow hard before I give the password.  What if I am wrong?  But I trust the quilt, so I say, 'The friend of a friend.' "

... A signal??

Luckily the girl had correctly read the coded signal.  In the section titled "Hiding," the story continues.  "A man and woman let us in.  They give us clean clothes, hot stew and biscuits, sweet cherry pie.  We talk in whispers so we won't wake up their little boy, already tucked in bed.  Their daughter, just my age, lets me hold her kitten.  We follow her lantern up narrow stairs to a secret room.  'Sleep now.  Tonight we'll keep watch,' she says.  I lie awake wondering about others who have hidden here.  I won't ever know their names.  But I find a message, a rough carved place in the wood under my mat.  I make my fingers into eyes to explore it.  Just before I fall asleep I see it is a star."

But soon their sleep is disturbed.  In the portion of the book called "Traveling" the girl is awoken abruptly.  " 'Wake up!  Hurry!  Your master and his men are close behind!'  Our friend whisks us through the last folds of night and hides us deep in his wagon.  The cold boards make me shiver.  Straw pricks my skin like needles.  We go north across a bridge, under trees, a zigzag of here and there.  We can't turn back -- we would be beaten, sold away, our chances gone for good.  We must go on or die.  I hang on tight.  Fear is so real, it lies here beside me.  The wagon rattles, horses clomp.  Suddenly I tremble.  Voices!  We're caught."

... "We're looking for runaways..."

" 'We're looking for runaways.  What's in your wagon?' barks a voice.  'Eggs, sacks of grain, vegetables to sell at morning market,' says our driver, smooth as honey.  'Search me if you like.  I'm no friend of the slave.'  I keep still as a rock though it feels like my heart will split.  But the searchers are fooled and at last they gallop off.  Our friend laughs and cracks the reins.  He calls to his horses:  'Giddyup, Hope and Liberty!'  And the wagon rolls on."

The final chapter of the book is called, "Singing."  "Birds wake, a rooster calls.  I listen to night softly falling away.  We stop at a little church deep in a piney wood.  I pick the straw from my hair and rub my stiff, cramped legs.  Our friend takes a stick and draws a map in the dirt of the road we'll take to Canada.  'These good folks will carry you on,' he says.  'You're almost to freedom now.'

... "You're almost to freedom now..."

"Over the trees the sun comes up.  The dark pines glow like gold.  Freedom!  I take a deep breath and when I let go my voice flies up in a song.  My own song of running in sunshine and dancing through fields.  I'll jump every fence in my way." 

... "Freedom!  I take a deep breath and when I let go my voice flies up in song."

QUOTES ~ "The Power of Love..."

"When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will finally know peace."
                                                                           ~ Jimi Hendrix
                                                                             (1942 - 1970) 

QUOTES ~ A Definition of Family Literacy...

Family Literacy

"Family Literacy refers to how families use reading, writing and communicating to work, learn and play together - both at home and in their community.  It's about families taking time to develop relationships.  Everyday activities that parents share with their children are not only learning opportunities for the child, but the parents as well.  When families take time to read, explore a city or countryside, visit a museum or park, bake or cook, share stories or celebrate traditions together, they are preacticing family literacy."  [Emphasis mine]

To learn more about literacy, check out the Saskatchewan Literacy Network website.

FAMILY LIFE ~ "Big Foot" Walks Among Us!

This post was written a few weeks ago, but it didn't get published as I was waiting to take a photo of the shoes ... well, finally I got around to it!

As you can see... the shoes are no longer new!
We even went back to buy a second pair (different pattern but same brand).

It's still pretty muddy outside, but in a few more days it will have dried up and we'll be able to "fling" the winter boots for this season.

Since Isobel has "indoor" shoes at school, and she usually just runs around the house in her stocking feet, I didn't realize how much her feet had grown over the colder months.  But last night, when we were in North Battleford, we went to Payless Shoe Source to look for new Spring shoes.

"She's about a 12.5," the sales clerk advised, before leaving us to find a suitable pair of runners.  It seemed like there was more to choose from in some of the smaller sizes.  The search was frustrating.  At first it seemed we would be going home empty-handed, but then the clerk explained to me that some of the shoes that looked like lace-ups were actually slip-ons.  Finally we found a pair that Isobel liked, were suitable for everyday wear, and fit our budget.  The little red LED lights were a bonus! The new shoes are actually Size 13!

As Isobel was experimenting with them, she ran down the aisle of the store and then took a big leap.  "I can even JUMP in these," she excitedly exclaimed!  She held the bright pink shoebox all the way home but, when we arrived home, was too sleepy to show them to her Stepdad.  I'm sure that will be the first thing she does this morning!

Early this morning, I took two tiny pink pairs of shoes from her closet (to place in the give-a-way bag for the Mennonite Community Closet).  Both had size 9.5 imprinted on the soles.  Could Isobel possibly have grown THAT much, just over the winter?  Then I realized that was in UK sizing.  A quick check of a conversion chart showed they were the equivalent of a North American size 11 ~ so that's still a jump of two whole sizes!

Isobel seems to have this "shoe thing" all figured out.  She told me, "I grow and the shoes shrink to me!!!"  I can sort of understand her logic ...

Sometimes Isobel likes to slip into a pair of John's shoes to go out in the yard or to our "other house" next door ... her feet look petite in those man-sized boats.  But in her new silver AIRWALK butterfly runners they look big ... my "baby" is growing and developing in so many ways (like my recent post about her first attempts at learning to read).

Yes, "BIG FOOT" truly walks among us!

KINDERGARTEN ~ "Mini" Field Trips and a "Beach Party"....

In the last few days of Kindergarten, Isobel's class has been taking some "mini" field trips around the Village.  The children have, for the most part, lined up and walked to and from the school (when it rained one day, they were "rescued" by the spare bus)!

The first time they ventured out, the students went to the Synergy Credit Union and the Co-op Grocery store.  Isobel was thrilled that the children were allowed to scan items into the cash register.

Another day they walked to the local hair salon and the Lakeland Vet Clinic.  This would have been quite a long walk for the children as the clinic is on the far edge of town.  Isobel had enjoyed the trip but complained that when they got back to the school, they didn't have any time and "not even a drop of recess!"

The group also toured Pat Gibbons Ford dealership.  They had also initially planned to tour the Canada Post outlet but due to the current strike action (and the lack of mail flow) they cancelled the visit.

Tuesday afternoon the Kindergarten students will participate in a "Celebration of Excellence" where they will sing "O Canada" with some of the other elementary children.  They will also be called up to the stage to receive recognition for completing their first full year of schooling.  Wednesday, June 29 the children only attend school in the morning. To wind-up the year, the Kindergarten class plans to join the Grade 1 and 2 students at a "Beach Party" in the Village Green Park!  Isobel keeps asking, "How long till the beach party??"

Thursday morning is "Report Card Day."  The students, and their parents, are expected to pop into the school and to pick up any belongings that remain in the building and to get their Report Card from their teacher.  For Isobel, it will also mean a farewell to Mrs. Winsor as she will be on maternity leave for the 2011-2012 academic year, so they will not be frequently bumping into each other.

It's hard to believe my "baby" is all ready for the adventures of Grade 1 ... she's growing up, all too fast!

BOOK REVIEWS ~ "Ellington Was Not A Street" ~ By: Ntozake Shange

Mood Indigo

it hasnt always been this way

ellington was not a street

robeson no mere memory

du bois walked up my father's stairs

hummed some tune over me

sleeping in the company of men

who changed the world

it wasn't always like this

why ray barretto used to be a side-man

& dizzy's hair was not always grey

I remember              i was there

i listened in the company of men

politics as necessary as collards

music even in our dreams

our house was filled with all kinda folks

our windows were not cement or steel

our doors opened like our daddy's arms

held us safe & loved

children growing in the company of men

old southern men & young slick ones

sonny til was not a boy

the clovers no rag-tag orphans

our crooners/we belonged to a whole world

nkrumah was no foreigner

virgil akins was not the only fighter

.

it hasnt always been this way

ellington was not a street

                       - Ntozake Shange

This poem, written by Ntozake Shange, is the basis for a delightful picture book illustrated by Kadir Nelson.

Except for a brief mention on the inner dust jacket, there is little explanation about the poem, itself, or about Shange's life.  The jacket says:  "In a reflective tribute to the African-American community of old, noted poet Ntozake Shange recalls her childhood home and the close-knit group of innovators that often gathered there.  These men of vision, brought to life in the majestic paintings of artist Kadir Nelson, lived at a time when the color of their skin dictated where they could live, what schools they could attend, and even where they could sit on a bus or in a movie theatre."

Shange was born October 18, 1948 to Paul T. Williams (an Air Force surgeon) and Eloise Williams (an educator and a psychiatric social worker).  According to Shange's biography on Wikipedia, when "she was 8, Shange's family moved to the racially segregated city of St. Louis.  As a result of the Brown v. Board of Education court decision, Shange was bussed to a white school where she endured racism and racist attacks."  At that time, her name was Paulette L. Williams.

Shange is a self proclaimed black feminist and much of her work addresses issues relating to race and feminism.  The biography states that "her family had a strong interest in the arts and encouraged her artistic education.  Among the guests at their home were Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, Chuck Berry, and W. E. B. Du Bois."  In 1971, Williams changed her name.  Ntozakhe means she who has her own things (literally things that belong to her in Xhosa) and shange means he/she who walks/lives with lions (meaning the lion's Pride in  Zulu).

On the last two pages of the book are "mini biographies" of Paul Robeson [see previous posts], William Edward Burghardt (W. E. B.) Du Bois, Ray Barretto, Earlington Carl "Sonny Til" Tilghman, John Birks "Dizzy" Gillespie, Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, Edward Kennedy "Duke" Ellington, Virgil "Honey Bear" Akins, and "The Clovers."  Members of this singing group were John (Buddy) Bailey, Matthew McQuater, Harold (Hal) Lucas Jr., and Harold Winley, with guitar accompaniment by Bill Harris.

Kadir Nelson's paintings for "Ellington Was Not a Street" won recognition for the artist as the winner of  the 2005 Coretta Scott King Illustrator Award.  Since Alisdair and I found it difficult to pick just one favourite illustration, we decided to share several photographs of these award winning pictures:

"robeson no mere memory"

"du bois walked up my father's stairs"

"hummed some tune over me
sleeping in the company of men
who changed the world"

"our house was filled with all kinda folks
our windows were not cement or steel"

"our doors opened like our daddy's arms
held us safe & loved"

"children growing in the company of men
old southern men & young slick ones"

"sonny til was not a boy
the clovers no rag-tag orphans
our crooners/ we belonged to a whole world"

"nkrumah was no foreigner
virgil akins was not the only fighter"

"it hasn't always been this way
ellington was not a street"

***

"For what our lives were

And what we wish our children's lives to be."

                                                            ~ Ntozake Shange

BOOK REVIEWS ~ "Election Day" ~ By: Margaret McNamara

It's a thin (32-page) "Ready-to-Read" book, but I think every politican should take a moment or two to read this childrens' book!  It's called "Election Day" and was written by Margaret McNamara, as part of the "Robin Hill School" series.

There is a new student in Mrs. Connor's class at Robin Hill School.  Becky has arrived on the day voting was to take place for the position of class president.  Who will lead the students in the room?

"After lunch, the children gave speeches.  'I promise to get us a candy machine!' said Nick.  'Hooray!' said the class.

" 'I promise no homework!' said Emma.  'Hooray!  Hooray!' said the class.

" 'I promise summer vacation will last for six months!' said Nia.  'Hooray!  Hooray!  Hooray!' said the class."

At this point, Mrs. Connor asks if there are any other students who would like to give a speech.

"Becky thought she could be a good class president.  But she was new.  She did not have any friends.  She did not have a speech."

" 'Anyone?' asked Mrs. Connor.  She was looking right at Becky."

"Becky took a deep breath.  She got up from her chair.  'I cannot promise candy machines, or less homework, or more vacation,' she said.  'I can only promise to do my best.'  Becky sat down.  No one else said a word.  Especially not 'Hooray.' "

" 'Now,' said Mrs. Connor.  'It is time to vote.'  The children put their heads on their desks and their hands in the air.  Mrs. Connor counted all the votes.  'Becky is the winner!' she said.  The new class president was happy."

" 'You made a good promise,' Hannah said.  'It is a promise I will keep,' said Becky."

***

That message seems particularly appropriate as Monday, May 2 was "Election Day" in Canada. The results were somewhat surprising ~ with the Liberals losing most of their seats, the New Democratic Party becoming the official opposition, and Harper's Conservatives gaining a majority for the first time ever.

It's true ~ we DON'T need empty promises or charismatic, flamboyant individuals to represent us. But we DO need honest, dedicated, hard-working politicians at all levels of governance ~ local, provincial and federal. Are you willing to run for office and to serve your country in that way? Perhaps YOU could make a difference next time the call for nominations goes forth.

*** 

 

If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, you are a leader.
                                                                                                                          ~  John Quincy Adams

BOOK REVIEWS ~ "Freedom Summer" ~ By: Deborah Wiles

Today we read the book, "Freedom Summer" by Deborah Wiles. 

Alisdair says:  "This book is about John Henry Waddell, who is black, and his best friend, who is white.  The story is told from the white boy's perspective.  The events of the story take place during the summer of 1964, just after the Civil Rights Act was passed.  The boys worked and played together and especially enjoyed swimming in Fiddler's Creek."


"John Henry swims better than anybody I know.
  He crawls like a catfish, blows bubbles like a swamp
 monster, but he doesn't swim in the town pool with
 me.  He's not allowed.  So we dam the creek with
 rocks and sticks to make a swimming spot,
 then holler and jump in, wearing only our skin."



"Then we float on our backs and spout like whales."

"One day the boys heard that the segregation laws would be changed the next day.  They were excited about going swimming together in the town pool.   John Henry had not been able to swim there before, because it was a White's only facility.  But the boys are disappointed when they arrive at the pool early the next morning.  Instead of finding refreshing water, to swim in, they find city workers pouring asphalt and tar into, what once was, the pool." 

"So we hunker in the tall weeds and watch all
 morning until the pool is filled with hot,
 spongy tar.  Sssssss! Smoky steam rises in the air.
  Workers tie planks to their shoes and stomp
 on the blacktop to make it smooth."

"It's so quiet now, we can hear the breeze whisper
 through the grass.  We sit on the diving board and stare
 at the tops of the silver ladders sticking up from the tar.
  My heart beats hard in my chest.  John Henry's voice shakes.
  'White folks don't want colored folks in their pool.' 
 'You're wrong, John Henry,' I say, but I know he's right."

"After discussing this sad turn of events, the boys  go and get an ice pop from the convenience store.  The white boy always used to buy two ice pops while John Henry waited outside.  This time, he could go through the front door and buy his own ice pop.  Later they would go swimming at the Creek.  Some changes take longer than others to happen."

"If I was one of the boys, I would have felt very disappointed that I couldn't swim with my friend at the public pool and very sad and angry officials would choose to ruin the pool instead of allowing blacks to swim there."   

This book, although fiction, is based on fact.  The author, Deborah Wiles writes, in "A Note About The Text": 

"I was born a white child in Mobile, Alabama,

and spent summers visiting my beloved Mississippi relatives.

  When the Civil Rights Act was passed, the town pool closed.

  So did the roller rink and the ice-cream parlor.

  Rather than lawfully giving blacks the same rights

and freedoms as whites, many southern businesses

 chose to shut their doors in protest.

  Some of them closed forever."

Thanks to Wiles, and her book about these childhood experiences, we have been provided much food for thought.

***

"Freedom Summer" was published by Atheneum Books for Young Readers in 2001.  This fiction picture book won both the Ezra Jack Keats Book Award (2002 - New Writer Award and Illustrator Award) and a Coretta Scott King Award (2002 - John Steptoe New Talent Award for the illustrator, Jerome Lagarrigue.)

SPEECH ARTS ~ He Remembered to say "Thank You . . . "

Are the youth of today ungrateful??  That's what I wondered, for a few moments, after Alisdair received his prize cheque from the Battlefords Kiwanis Music Festival at the Gala Concert.  Inside the package of materials, attached to the cheque, was a little neon green card. 

Inside it said, "Please write a note of thanks to the sponsor of your award."  An address was supplied.

It used to be a given that, if you received a gift from someone, you would automatically respond with a "Thank You" note.  It was simply proper etiquette.  Now, it seems, some folk overlook this common courtesy.  I'm glad the Festival Committee are reminding award recipients to thank their benefactors, however, it would be nice if this was unnecessary and the winners would automatically take a moment or two to jot a few lines to the generous person or organization that sponsored their award.

Alisdair's card...

 Alisdair chose this card to sent to the Battlefords Kiwanis Music Festival Committee.  On the outside it says, "The beauty of kindness ... it is a treasure you share so freely" and on the inside the thought continues with the words, "your kindness means so much."

The inside of the card ...

Alisdair added the following personal message:

"To: The Battlefords Kiwanis Music Festival Committee:

Thank you for the scholarship for the Junior Speech Arts Test piece. I opened a new Savings Account with the $100.00 and plan to invest it into a Canada Savings Bond when they go on sale in October."

Like the lepers in the Bible account, Alisdair remembered to say thank you.

Perhaps there is someone YOU should single out to thank today.  A Thank You note doesn't have to be for a specific gift.  You could write to one of your former teachers to thank them for taking extra time for you and making a difference in your life.  Or you could send a brief note of encouragement to your Pastor for a recent sermon that spoke to your heart.  Maybe you have an elderly friend or relative that would simply appreciate a card to know they are thought of and loved?  The possibilities are endless!

REFLECTIONS ~ "A Good Friday Meditation" ~ STONES IN SCRIPTURE

This is the Meditation that was presented at the joint Good Friday service in our small community.  The United Church hosted the gathering with many attending from Manitou Evangelical Free Church.  Individuals from both congregations participated in the service ~ including the Ladies Choir that I've been part of for a few weeks.  (It formed especially to sing over the Easter weekend).  The two ministers involved in the morning Meditation were Rev. Lorna Brick and Pastor Mel Letkeman.

Today, we will explore the use of stones throughout the stories of the people of Israel and the early Christian community.  As a physical link to the stories you will be hearing and as a way to help you reflect on what stones might mean for you in everyday life, we invite you to hold a stone in your hand.  Take a stone from the basket, hold it and ponder the multiplicity of images that arise when you think of 'stone.'

PRAYER

Dear God:  In our faith traditions we encounter you in many ways.  We hear you first of all in the story of creation as you give life and shape to the world that is our home.  Earth!  Sand and soil!  Pebble and rocks!  Every stone we pick up and run through our fingers was created by God.  We give thanks to God for the gift of creation and for all that this means for us.  We give thanks for the gift of story and the ways in which stories help us to reflect on life's meaning.  We give thanks to God for the gift of free will and all the responsibility that comes as we make choices about how to live within God's creation and with the elements God has created for us.  On this day, let us reflect on the significance of stones in our world, and let us draw strength and hope as well as caution and concern from our reflections.  In the name of the one who creates and who invites us to be stewards of creation, we pray.  Amen.

Scripture Reading:  Joshua 4:1-9

Twelve stones to build a cairn.  Twelve stones to help us remember.  We build our own memorials in many ways.  Cairns in our rural communities mark where schools and churches have stood.  Stones in our cemeteries carry the names of our loved ones.

Marble monuments remind us of wars fought and lives lost.

A stone in our home reminds us of a place we have visited, an experience we have celebrated, a connection we have made with someone else.

Stones become part of the web of our remembering, whether in the form of a cairn or monument. or a marker on a grave.  Stones point us to places where our stories are gathered, that we might remember.  In our remembering, we touch again the spaces that have been holy for us, and we find new strength as we celebrate the pathways our lives have taken.

Scripture Reading:  1 Samuel 17:40-49

In the encounter between David and Goliath, we see a different use for stones.  In times of war, human beings have been extraordinarily creative in the use of materials at hand to gain an advantage over an enemy.  David reaches for the simplest of weapons, a young lad's slingshot and a few well-chosen stones.

Those stones, in the hands of an expert shepherd, become a weapon as lethal as any of our modern armaments.  Those stones fly through the air with deadly intent, and those stones kill.  To reflect on stones is to absorb not only their positive images, but also their darker side.  In David's story, we are reminded of our capacity, as human beings, to kill each other.  A stone becomes as much an instrument of death as any other weapon we could choose.

Scripture Reading:  Nehemiah 2:11-20

What could be more natural than returning to one's home and beginning the process of rebuilding?  But first, we must rebuild the walls!  Solid stones set, one on top of the other, will keep out those we do not wish to include in our community.  Walls will also keep in those we want to control.

These stones that we are gathering will help us build the kind of community we want where we get to decide who is in and who is out.  These stones will separate us from those who disagree with us.  Surely this is what our God wants.  What sort of walls do we build to keep some in and others out?  What happens to any group of people when another group of people decides that they are not the right sort of people?  Stones become walls.  Walls become prisons.  Prisons destroy lives.

Scripture Reading:  Luke 21:5-6

Herod the Great rebuilt the temple in Jerusalem, adding a vast area to its original dimensions.  The stones used in the reconstruction phase were so gigantic as to be almost beyond comprehension.  One archaeological excavation has unearthed a stone that is 40 feet long, 10 feet high, and 14 feet wide, with an estimated weight of 500 tons.  How could something so massive ever be destroyed?  How could stones so large ever be dislodged from the place where they had been set carefully on top of one another?

What happens to our sense of security when such a structure crumbles to the ground?  Where are the stones that should protect us?  "Destroy this temple," said Jesus, "And in three days I will raise it up!"

Scripture Reading:  John 8:3-11

It seems but a short step from the use of stones in warfare to the use of stones in legal punishment.  These stones are covered in blood!  The self-righteousness of a crowd that sits in judgement, eager to carry out a death sentence, is an example of that human characteristic to rush to conclusions.  How often have we thought someone was guilty until proven innocent?  How often have we rushed to judgement, suggesting that a person be executed?  How often have we supported the actions of those who take the law into their own hands?  Would we cast the first stone?

Would we stand on the sidelines and cheer as it is happening?  Is the stone in our hands starting to feel less comfortable now?  Are we beginning to question why it is that we have the power to stone another human being to death?  Is it far easier to join a crowd, no matter the crowd's motivation?  How does the stone feel in your hand now?

Scripture Reading:  Mark 15:6-15

The crowd!  People with stones in hand, ready to do their worst.  Are we those people?  It comes to us as an astonishing and startling realization that we could easily fit in with a mob mentality.  How easy it is to get caught up in the moment, to suspend any sober second thoughts, to dwell within the feeling of being part of something bigger than each of us as individuals, no matter the origin or consequences.  All of us have seen images of crowds that have grown out of control.  It is overwhelming.  And in full flight, it is uncontrollable.  This is the crowd that surrounded Jesus.  This is the crowd that yelled, "Crucify Him!  Crucify Him!"

We are that crowd.  Like it or not, we share in the human characteristics that could easily transform ornamental stones into weapons to be thrown at others.  We can become so convinced of our own righteousness that we leave no room for others to be different.  We create narrow definitions of what is good ~ of what is God's ~ and then we feel free to consign all those who don't fit within our framework of godliness into the outer darkness of non-being.  "Crucify him, stone her!"  The shouts are there, all around us, and even in our silence, by saying and doing nothing, we participate in the cycle of violence.

Hymn:  Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?

Scripture Reading:  Matthew 27:57-60

The sentence of crucifixion was Rome's harshest punishment, reserved for those deemed to be opponents of the empire and disturbers of the peace.  Often, the bodies were left on the crosses as a reminder to others of what would happen to them if they also disturbed the peace.  This did not happen to Jesus.  His body was taken down from the cross and placed in a special tomb that had been cut out of rock for Josephy of Arimathea and his family.  A rock has been hollowed out to shape a tomb.  The tomb is protected by a stone that has been rolled across the opening.

There is night, and there is a kind of peace.  What a journey our stones have taken!  From creation, through memorials, to the killing fields of human contacts, to the crowds who cast the stones in judgement.  And now this:  a tomb.

An ending, and yet also a new beginning.  Entombed in stone, waiting to be born anew, to rise from the dead.  Hope transformed as life leads to death and death leads to the promise of life beyond death.  I invite you to take your stone home with you and use it as a memorial for the journey you are on.  The journey from creation to death, to the in-between time of waiting and hoping.  Remember that stones are used for good things and for bad things.  But know that the choice has always been ours.  Know too, that it is the choices we make that ultimately define us.  May God help us to hear the stories, to ponder the choices, and to live in ways that are life-giving, ever-nurturing, and love abiding.

Hymn:  Beneath The Cross of Jesus

We leave this story in the middle, knowing that we will return on Sunday morning to listen to the next chapter.  This is the way things are in life.  We accept incompleteness.  We wait for a story to continue.  We ponder and we hope.  Go home then to ponder.  But go home also with hope, knowing that we already have an insight into how God's story continues.  It continues with us!  We are part of the ongoing story.  This is our story, and we live it in faith, in trust, and in love. We live it because love has clothed itself in light and embraces us with hope.  We live it because we are children of God's creation, sharing in the life God gives us, becoming the unfolding story of God's Word each moment that we live.

Thanks be to God.

AMEN.

CHARITY/VIDEOS ~ Update ~ "Build a Bano" Mexican Wheelchair & Bathroom Renovation Project

Here is an update on Uncle Vance's "Mexican Missions Project."

Before they left for Mexico, on April 8th, the Skate Life group managed to raise the necessary $2,500 to provide a wheelchair for Vance's friend and to begin remodelling the family's home so it could be made wheelchair accessible.  The bathroom isn't finished, but the work has begun.

It's exciting to see the volunteers working ~ chipping out the old concrete and pouring fresh ramps and floors for the family.  Near the end of the video, the young man's mother speaks (through an interpreter) thanking the Lord, and the Canadian donors, for their kindness to her family.  What a blessing this project has been to them!

It's amazing what a difference the "Build a Bano" donations have made to the quality of life of this family.  I'm glad to see actual footage of the project, documenting the positive results.