Tag Archives: whisper

Green Day

Beauty in the day: He is a new kindergartener. I mean – he’s green. REALLY green. Guest Teacher called for a little help. I went down to check it out, and found the young squire rolling on the dot carpet. The other children were sitting at their tables. “Hi Friend, what’s going on?” I said in a whisper voice, so as not to disturb the studiously working others. He just looked at me with a blank stare, and I asked if he would rather go down to the Office, or join his friends with the learning. “Go to the Office,” he said without much hesitation (“Office” doesn’t mean anything in particular to him yet).
We got there, and I decided we would strategize. “So, Friend, I’ll be you would like it if Mr. Winter (his regular teacher) was really proud of you when he came back tomorrow, wouldn’t you?” He agreed that he would. “I wonder – – what could you do with your Guest Teacher today that would make Mr. Winter proud of you tomorrow?” He gave this some thought, and had an answer.
“I could listen to her.”
“Incredible! What a fantastic idea you just had! This is great! Let’s write this down!” We wrote it down.
“Any more ideas of how we can do something with the Guest teacher that will make Mr. Winter proud of you?”
After some consideration, he had an additional thought: “I could follow her directions.”
I went crazy again, celebrating the genius that was he. About then, the Counselor came to have a chat, and my stint was over.
At the end of the day, the Guest Teacher told me that the rest of the day went “better”, but that he had still had difficulties.
“But you know, when we all went to the front of the school for dismissal, he was the only one who said goodbye to me. “Bye!” he told her, “See you tomorrow!”
Mr. Winter would be proud.


Silly – Er, Happy Hour

Beauty in the day: so this was actually last night. My youngest daughter and I went into “downtown Issaquah” for a drink and an appetizer. We ended up following the advice of the waiter and ordered “truffle fries”.
“Is this to share?”
“Yes, thanks.”
We sipped our wine while we waited. Then it came. It was an enormous plate of shoelace fries, covered in garlic and garnished (semi-abundantly) with Beecher’s Flagship cheese.
We looked at each other with a “holy moly” look, and dug in. They were yummy, of course, but as we sat there eating and talking, the waft of the garlic grew rather intense. We were giggling about it, and Erin said between giggles, “This reminds me of,” and then leaned in to whisper something that I couldn’t make out.
“What?” I asked.
She leaned in again, giggling as she whispered. It was not successful.
The giggling was getting out of hand. I guess it was partly based on the anticipation of discovering what she was trying to communicate.
“WHAT?” I tried again.
Leaning in, she spoke a little louder, though still infused her speech with laughter.
“This reminds me of an episode of Sponge Bob Square Pants!”
We both dissolved at that. This led her into a condensed replay of the episode, complete with mimicked voices (which she can do eerily well).
This is may be what they mean by “Happy Hour”.

Mama Mia

Beauty in the day: he was ushered into the clinic, wailing with pain. The 2nd grader had gotten his fingers shut in a door, and he was traumatized to the hilt. On top of the fact that he is pretty new, he speaks next to no English, and his native tongue is Uzbek, one that no one else in our building knows. His eyes were wild with pain and fear, and the “it’s okay’s” were not making much of a dent to soften his loud howling. I let him talk to his mom on the phone, which brought even more wailing, because everybody knows that we cry more when we talk to our mamas. After the call (in Uzbek), I took his face in my hands, and ran my hands through his hair a few times, and he started quieting down a fraction. So I bent his head down a little bit so that our foreheads were touching, and whispered to him that his mama was going to come, and that she would make it better. I whispered it several times, and brushed tears away – and after a few shuddered breaths, he found a way to stop howling and locked eyes with me. Although he didn’t know my words, he knew what my spirit was saying to his. He crumbled a little, and went to wait for his mama. Sometimes we can say a lot without any words at all.

And speaking of mamas, this one is excited to announce that her littlest baby of nearly 22 years, is COMING HOME on May 21st. Celebrating!!!