The Former Student

Recognition swept across both of their faces as Callie stepped out of the elevator at the floor of her office and almost walked into the person standing there. Both simultaneously said, "Hey, how are you?" Then the older woman waiting to get on the elevator asked, "Did you teach this summer?"

"No, I didn't; it was a nice break," Callie answered with nods of emphasis.

"I know - I came to see you, but you weren't there - I figured you weren't teaching. Hey, what did you think of my 'Goodman Brown' paper?" Jane, confident, without fishing for a compliment, asked in her pleasantly loud voice.

"I thought it was good, really insightful, in-depth," Callie answered truthfully, though caught off-guard by the question, and having had a solid three months of break, having moved to a new city, and having planned for a new semester all since reading that final research paper.

"Oh, thank you! I just knew it was good. Thank you, Ms. Trindle!" Jane poured out the words with genuine delight, though her countenance displayed a sense of self-assurance and a knowledge that she was fine with our without this bit of affirmation. "Your class was my favorite class of all time, so far in my school," she added.

"Well, good; I'm glad you enjoyed it," Callie said, still taken a little aback.

"You're an awesome teacher," Jane continued, but with an air of ending the brief encounter so both ladies could move on with their schedules.

Callie, laughing, not sure how to respond, but wanting to do so graciously, said, "Thanks - you were an awesome student!" She really meant it, too, although that language, borrowed from Jane's remark, would not have been her own choice, she being such a deliberate and subdued teacher. Relating to students on a personal level had always both excited and puzzled her: how casual could she be? Could she let her guard down, or didn't she have to maintain that invisible boundary, for authority's sake? She was so young, after all, for a college teacher (in her mind, anyway): twenty-six, and just recently married, with no kids to add any of that almost intangible "mom-gravity" to her person, that gravitas that some teachers seemed to have, maybe since they were used to taking no nonsense from their own little 'students' at home. Callie did not reflect on all of these thoughts often, but her general picture of herself was definitely tinged with the drab colors of small, pervasive doubts and cautions.

The carpet and walls looked sharper as she walked back to her office after this conversation with her former student. Half-closed blinds and some buildings outside obstructed the view through the window at the end of the hallway, so that as she walked towards it, Callie could only see a small patch of what happened to be a bright blue sky.

Peppermint Lemons

Once when I was a kid my cousins from about eight hours away came to visit during the summer. My aunt, who happens to be one of the neatest ladies I know, gave us a special snack one afternoon while we took a break from swimming in the pool in the backyard. She cut holes into unpeeled lemons and stuck soft, fat peppermint sticks (the kind that dissolve easily) into the holes. The candy sticks acted like straws after we started to suck on them, because the acidic lemon juice worked its way inside and made holes through the candy. Those simple lemons became especially refreshing sweet and sour treats through the creative addition of sugary mediators.

My two-year-old daughter came down with a nasty stomach bug this week and was vomiting for a night and a day. She could hardly keep down even simple liquids. Ice chips saved the day that first day of sickness, keeping her hydrated, at least. The second day, she stopped throwing up and was able to keep down some liquids and food, though she was still zombie-like (definitely not her usual, energetic self). The third day, she finally showed signs of returning to normal levels of talking and activity, a huge relief.

Though the first couple of days of her sickness were trying and we lost a lot of sleep on the first night, I rather enjoyed the lazy and cuddly quality the days took on. My daughter and I spent a lot of time situated comfortably on the couch (which I now need to clean), either listening to music or watching a baby animals show, and dozing on and off throughout the day. We both benefited from the catch-up on sleep and rest, and I greatly enjoyed the way my daughter relaxed with her head in my lap or stretched out flat while I rubbed her back. Touch is one of my strongest love languages, and usually she doesn't sit still long enough for me to even brush out her hair.

Uncomfortable, sour-tasting events make us wince, like sucking on a plain lemon. But if we can find something sweet in the midst of the situation, our perspective can change. The hard thing may not go away, and we will still have to deal with it, and dealing with it may not at all be easy. But the flavor of the day can be transformed, even though we still have to eat the sour part of it.

Sweetness in the middle of sickness.

Rest when we needed it.

Cuddles make everything better.

A Strange Man Winked at Me, and It Made My Day

My mom, daughter, and I were at the playground next to the covered picnic area where the local farmer's market meets every Thursday at 4 pm. It was still only 3:30, so we had a while to hang out before finding our home-grown treasures. There was another family also playing there, and I can only describe them as sparkling. Somehow they reminded me of gems as they enjoyed each other and the warmth of the day.

The mom and little baby were relaxing on a bench, nursing, and the two little girls, maybe 5 and 4, were running around in flowing tops and jeans, while the daddy was delightedly responding to their creative play.

"Daddy, I found a nest in the tree!"

"You did? You see everything! Wow! That's amazing!"

"You can't catch me, Daddy!"

"I'm coming to get you!"

As I observed all of the excitement and heard the giggles, I was quite impressed with this family's interactions. The dad was so encouraging to his girls and, one could see, supportive of his wife. When the farmer's market was about to start, he continued to play with the girls as the mom headed over to do her shopping. This was just one of those families that one aspires to be part of. I hope we're like that someday, I was thinking, almost sub-consciously.

4 o'clock drew closer, and Mom and I decided to go search out the local coffee roaster. I grabbed my little girl and followed my mom across the playground towards the picnic tables, passing by the gem dad (who was now holding his baby) and his little girls as I did so. Planning a big approving smile as I approached him, I was ready to meet his eye. But I wasn't ready for the gigantic wink that he gave me as I came closer. The gem had flashed in the sunlight, and I burst into a huge grin and let out a laugh, too. I couldn't help but keep smiling throughout our whole time shopping, and I couldn't stop thinking about the inspirational dad and his neat family.

The power of a man who is doing his masculine role well, who is excelling in uplifting his family and engaging with them, is immense. He has the ability to show others the way by example. He has the ability to say implicitly to others, "I know you're in this life thing, too, and you are doing a great job. Keep on! You can do it." At least, those are the words I heard in my mind as I caught the wink of this stranger. Thanks, stranger, and thanks to all fathers and husbands out there who are doing the same.

What's the Best?

Once upon a time I was a young student worried about my performance on an upcoming test or project. My mom told me, "you know we don't expect you to be perfect; just do your best." "But, Mom!" I responded, "What if my best is a 100?"

Yes, I am a perfectionist. Recalling this story made me reflect on how I've been feeling lately as I relate to my new daughter. I'm trying to take care of her in the best ways, which often makes me anxious that I may not be measuring up. I worry about making mistakes. But yesterday as I thought about my own mom and how much little girls learn from their mothers, I realized what a disaster it would be if I got everything right, and what a mess we'd be in if I never messed up.

My daughter will gain tremendously from my imperfections. She will see someone make mistakes but not give up trying. She will see a woman who is loved by her husband despite not being the ideal wife. She will experience living with someone who isn't afraid to welcome friends over even though she doesn't have the house in order. She will learn that grace is not earned. She will learn that God works in our lives when we are weak, and that we don't have to work harder to make Him pleased with us.

I hope my mistakes will help my daughter learn that she is valuable not because of how well she performs, but just because she is preciously made in God's image. I hope she sees relationships as being more important than trivial tasks. I hope she knows for herself the beautiful truth that God chooses to love unconditionally. He accomplishes His purposes through us despite our imperfections, and this brings Him glory!