Day: October 26, 2007

Quiet courage

People are not always who you think they are by glancing at them. I know a pair of women who have always impressed me. They always look beautiful. Their children are always dressed adorably. This in and of itself is enough to make me look on them with envy. I have so many days where Iget to bedtime and realize that I didn’t ever get around to brushing my hair. It is still in the ratty braid that I put in yesterday morning. As for the kids, the term “ragamuffin” frequently applies. So I watched with admiration these two beautiful mothers with their bevy of perfectly dressed children. But I did not begin to feel awe until I realized the depth of sacrifice that both of these women made to the care of their children.

The first mom is a mother of four girls, one from a prior marriage, three from the current marriage. The mother, the husband, and the three little girls are all blonde. The older daughter is brunette. This oldest daughter is also shy and awkward. She has a troubled relationship with her biological father. In many ways this oldest daughter feels like an outsider. So the mother dyed her hair brown. I first noticed the change at church when this mother was sitting near her dark haired daughter. I happen to know that the mother does not like having brown hair, but she continues to do so because it gives her oldest daughter a sense of belonging. Suddenly there is physical evidence that the daughter really does belong. It is a quiet gift that the mother gives to the daughter every day.

The second mother has three children. She loves being able to stay at home with them. She considers all children to be wonderful miracles. She believes this so strongly that she’s had three kids despite the fact that she has a medical condition which renders her completely unable to eat for the first four months of pregnancy. For the last pregnancy, she was on an IV drip and a feeding tube. After that she was on bed rest because of a placental tear. She described all of this with a very cheerful tone. Her whole attitude said that while the experience had been miserable, it had also been worth it. Three months so sick she couldn’t even speak, and she’s considering doing it again one more time. I admire her courage and devotion to raising a family. I admire her ability to come through medical hell and still be cheerful about it.

Neither of these mothers will get recognition for their bravery and devotion. There are hundreds of thousands more like them. People who quietly act to follow their convictions. People who reach out to make the world better for those around them. Everywhere I look, I see such people. I see the mothers in the PTA who give hours and hours each week to run school programs. I see neighbors who bring dinner to each other. I see children who do extra chores to be nice to their parents. All of this is out there if we only look for it.

Teaching my last class

Monday is my last session teaching creative writing. I was tentatively committed to teaching again in January. In January I was supposed to have twice as many students and all of them would be 1-3 years younger. Handling them in class would not be such a big deal. But there have been hours of typing and image editing involved in getting the stories ready for print. I can’t afford to give away 10 hours per week right now. In January I’ll be about ready to collapse from the stress of running shipping and layout for a book simultaneously. I need a space of time to stabilize my family after all of that. It is a relief to duck out of this. Being relieved makes me sad, because I did enjoy teaching the class. I loved working with the kids. I love the stories they wrote. But it is a stress I can eliminate, so I am going to eliminate it.