Month: May 2016

Mighty Women Part I

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

There was a time when little girls were the high achievers in elementary school but as they progressed through middle school and high school they were eventually overtaken by the boys. That trend has slowly and dramatically changed over time. Today there are more young women enrolled in universities than men and to their credit more of them actually earn degrees than their male counterparts. I witnessed a microcosm of that effect this past weekend as so many of the young ladies with whom I had formerly worked graduated from universities all across the country. I was overwhelmed with the deepest pride and respect for them because I know that their hard labors began long ago.

Sara Reyna was one of my Algebra students. She was a quiet and somewhat shy young lady caught in the midst of my most rowdy class. She was not prone to their pranks and purposeful distractions but was far more studious and determined. Over the course of four years Sara and I shared many conversations in which I learned much about her courage and grit. She wisely chose to befriend an outstanding group of like-minded young women and together all of them became some of my all time favorite people and great success stories.

Sara always reminded me so much of myself. She stayed in Houston to attend college while her friends went away. She worked while going to school and was somewhat uncertain as to what she ultimately wanted to do with her life. It took her time and much soul searching to finally realize that she wanted to be a teacher. I knew that she would be incredible in that capacity and hoped that she would one day join the ranks of those of us whose profession is dedicated to passing the torch of knowledge from one generation to the next.

Sara somehow managed to work and handle eighteen hour course loads in her quest for a degree. On Friday her dreams came true as she walked across the stage at the University of Houston to receive her diploma in Education. She had won yet another hard fought battle and I am giddy with happiness for her and her family because I know how important this moment is. I also believe that when the school bells ring in the fall there will be some very lucky students assigned to Ms. Reyna’s class. Knowing that Sara will be in charge gives me nothing but great hope for the future of our boys and girls.

Sara shared her joy with yet another of my Algebra students, Meliza Aranda. Meliza was also a rather quiet student who was lucky enough to be in a class with more serious and focused individuals. She and I never spoke much but I noted that she was always polite, prepared and studious. I had lost track of her after graduation from high school, so it was with great delight that I realized that she had attended my alma mater, the University of Houston and that she had also chosen to major in Education. Like Sara, Meliza graduated this past Friday.

I spent many years interviewing prospective teachers and I now have a knack for determining how well a person will do inside a classroom. I predict that Meliza will be a masterful teacher. The students and parents will have a treasure in her. I’m blissfully happy to know that she is now part of the educational sisterhood.

Meanwhile at Texas Tech University, Julie Dominguez claimed her Masters degree in Biomedical Sciences. She is from the same Class of 2010 as Sara and earned her first degree two years ago. Julie is a happy person who always seems to beam with an inviting smile. She loves people, sports and her family. Sadly she has seen more tragedy than most. Only weeks before her graduation her beloved cousin was murdered as he attempted to come to the aid of a woman who was being attacked. It was with a profound sadness that she somehow found the fortitude to finish the work for her graduate degree. Now she plans to move forward with great purpose so that she might honor her family.

Julie is a brilliant young woman who has a way with people and with words. She recently posted her thoughts on Facebook and inspired all of us with her bravery and her faith. “Thank you God, you have a purpose for us all,” she began. “Even though I don’t know where life will take me, I know you will lead me to my purpose…A special thanks to my angels who are always taking care of me from above. This triumph is dedicated to all of y’all that make me a better person.”

I suspect that this is only a first step for Julie. She is a woman on a mission and she will not stop until she is positioned to make this world a healthier and happier place for all of us. I am certain that she will bring the change that she wishes to see in a world that has not always been kind to her and her family. Somehow Julie Dominguez remains a shining light of optimism for all of us.

Marissa Garza, another Class of 2010 KIPP alumna, has always kept her eye on the prize. As a student at KIPP Houston High School she demonstrated a maturity and intellect a step above her peers. She is a wise and loyal person who instills confidence. People seem to seek her out as a comforting presence. Somehow it seems only fitting that she graduated this weekend with a degree in nursing, an occupation that fits so perfectly with all of her nurturing qualities.

Earning her diploma has been a stressful battle with difficult coursework and hours long rotations in the hospital that might have defeated a lesser person. Marissa admits to having shed many tears in her quest to become a nurse but somehow she kept picking herself back up and slowly but surely moved forward. She is eager to take her certification exams and get her license to practice her skills.

Someone somewhere is already going to have a better experience with a health problem because Marissa will be there to help him/her through the process of regaining health. The same loving and encouraging ways that her friends and family have always observed in her will become the foundation upon which she will no doubt build a stunning career.

I am so proud of these four incredible women. Each of them had to overcome challenges to reach goals that seemed so distant back when I first met them. I have watched them change from giddy young teenagers into mighty women of distinction. Their actions and character make KIPP Houston High School and all of us who worked with them there feel incalculably proud. They have truly climbed the mountain of educational success and I suspect that their view from the summit is breathtaking. I know that as I watch them from my vantage point I am in awe. 

World, I Hope You’re Ready!

Published on by Sharron Burnett1 Comment

13012597_10153446008322882_3480606950507260717_nThere are certain people who are just one of a kind. There are no pat phrases to describe them. They are beyond platitudess. They possess commanding confidence that defines them wherever they go. Jiovanni Christian Jones is just such a young man. Besides his imposing stature, he is blessed with a bigger than life personality. Perhaps his characteristics are simply part of his DNA. His mother, whom he loves dearly, is a beautiful and brilliant woman who draws all eyes as soon as she enters a room. Together Jiovanni and his mom seem capable of conquering anything the world throws at them.

I never had the privilege of teaching Jiovanni but I inherited the honor of being the grade level chairperson for the Class of 2010 at KIPP Houston High School and he was a member of that gloriously interesting group. We all called him “Jio” and it became quickly apparent to me that he was not only extremely bright but also that he would never be content with merely standing quietly on the sidelines of life. In fact, he was and still is one of those quick-witted individuals who analyzes and questions virtually everything.

Some educators are annoyed by such students but I have always had a special place in my heart for such freedom fighters. Of course, I thoroughly enjoyed his challenges and noted with pride that he is a very reflective person. Jiovanni has the mindset and skills of an advocate for justice. He is a community organizer, one who sees the problems with society and is never content to simply allow injustices to thrive. He is not just the kid who asserts that the emperor has no clothes when nobody else is willing to do so, but the activist courageous enough to suggest plans for changing the status quo. His eagerness to freely speak his mind has not always found a receptive audience but to me he is a hero. I have always admired fearlessly principled individuals and Jiovanni Jones is definitely willing to take a stand.

I have gathered over the years that he comes by his advocacy quite naturally, for both his mother and his grandmother taught him to do what is right, not what is easy. In fact, Jiovanni often applauds his mother whom he sees as the quintessential role model. She is a lawyer and has served on the Houston City Council and as a member of the Houston Independent School District Board. Recently she was tapped to star in the reality television program, Sisters In Law. She is a stunningly beautiful woman but her real grace comes from her daring. Jio has inherited both his striking good looks and his boldness from his mother and I fully expect him to make as profound a mark on society as she has.

This past weekend Jiovanni graduated from Texas State University with a degree in Management. In typical fashion his walk across the stage was uncommonly exciting and I suspect that those who witnessed his gleeful dance will not soon forget him. He is a joyful person and his obvious euphoria at the moment of well-earned achievement is so in keeping with the essence of his personality. Jiovanni can be a barrel of fun or as serious as he needs to be. I’ve enjoyed some conversations with him that challenged me to really think about current issues in brand new ways. Whenever I was willing to listen to his point of view, I always learned something. He is as devoted to fairness as anyone that I have ever known and his heart is far more kind and generous than his comical antics sometimes demonstrate. There is a real seriousness of purpose behind all of the laughter.

I remember a day when Jiovanni volunteered to accompany me in delivering toys and clothing items to a charitable organization that provides refuge for young children. Jio and his fellow members of the National Honor Society had worked hard to fill huge boxes with wonderful items and he was excited as I was to be able to do something to make those kids happy. As we drove to our destination we had a long time to converse and I enjoyed having the time to get to know him better. When we finally found the place we attempted to procure someone to take our donations. Things did not go as well as we had planned. It would be an understatement to say that we were treated rather brusquely. The people in charge hardly had time to speak with us. They took our carload of contributions as though we were somehow bothering them rather than being generous.

Jio was visibly bothered by the lukewarm reception that we received but he ever so politely maintained his composure. I felt compelled to debrief about what we had just witnessed and ultimately we decided that there was really no excuse for lack of appreciation that we had received. Nonetheless, We agreed that it still felt good to know that our boxes were filled with wonderful surprises for the children and somehow that was all that really mattered. We would later receive a thank you note from the organization in which they seemed to have finally realized what a profound mistake they had made.

I don’t know exactly where Jiovanni’s path will lead him. I have no doubt that he’ll be a good manager because he loves people and they love him back. He has a quiet faith and a big heart that will make him someone for whom people want to work. He is ready to rock the world and says it best in his own words, “That time has come! It’s time for me to write the next chapter of my life. It’s time for me to change the world. Thank you momma Jolanda Jones. You have helped me understand this life and understand what it takes to be a black man in America. I’m getting this degree for you as much as me. I love you. Thank you to all my friends and family who have also helped me make it through. It takes a village! World, I hope you’re ready for me! Here I come!”

I recommend that all of you keep your eyes on this young man. He does exactly what he says he is going to do and he is on his way. Congratulations, Jiovanni Christian Jones. We are all waiting for your impact and those of us who know you expect that it will be grand.

A Gentle Warrior

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

13071824_10154767868523858_4628322278963228627_oAs we travel through life each of us builds special relationships. Sometimes we are surprised at the people with whom we become the closest. We have those unexpected moments when an unbreakable bond is created and we just know that a particular person is a kindred spirit whom we will love and treasure for all time. Thus it is with Johnnathan Lopez.

Johnnathan and I started off with a rather unpromising beginning. He was a student in a class that seemed hell-bent on giving me and all of their teachers a hard time. They traveled together all day long like marauders filled with mischief. They seemed more intent on being funny than learning. A few of the students saddled with the group struggled to behave, but serious was always a challenge. Somehow I just barely kept the crew progressing through the curriculum in Algebra I.

They were a bright and likable bunch in spite of their behavior and if the luxury of time had been mine I would have enjoyed their jokes and their contagious laughter. Unfortunately the clock was ticking and I had endless numbers of skills and knowledge to convey to them. I barely managed to tame them just enough to give them the basics but I always felt as though I was standing on a volcano that was about to erupt.

Right in the big middle of this raucous group was Johnnathan Lopez. He always bore a big, inviting grin and a likable personality that only encouraged his classmates to find new ways of playing with me. Somehow it was impossible not to enjoy him, or the others for that matter, even when they were pushing all of us to our limits. My only worry for Johnnathan and his classmates was that their lack of seriousness might one day land them in big trouble and it wasn’t long that very thing happened.

The students had been working on projects for the annual science fair for many weeks. The day before the event their teacher asked them to bring their completed three panel boards for inspection. She was using my classroom to house the overflow of work. Johnnathan was among the students waiting for her critique in a corner not far from where I was tutoring. When it came time for the teacher’s commentary on Johnnathan’s efforts he and I were both stunned. Essentially she informed him that he had not followed directions for the task and thus would receive a failing grade unless he made revisions. He had one night to correct his mistakes or accept the low mark.

Johnnathan’s shocked expression said it all. He saw little hope for changing the outcome and was about to toss his project into the trash when I stopped him and suggested that with a bit of imagination he might yet create an acceptable display. I gave him access to my computer, my printer and the different letters and colored papers that I always kept in my classroom. He worked until late into the evening and I stayed with him, offering suggestions and editing here and there. Eventually his project had been transformed and appeared to meet all of the requirements of the science teacher’s rubric. The next day Johnnathan presented his improvements to a teacher who was greatly impressed that he had made such an effort to make things right.

From that moment forward Johnnathan became more than just another student of mine. He and I had bonded over the anxious hours when he worked to resurrect what had seemed to be a worthless project. I had learned during that time what a delightful person he truly is and I also listened to the dreams that he had for himself. I decided that I would do everything in my power to help him to achieve.

Over the next four years Johnnathan and I would only grow closer. I was proud when he became the president of his class and when he landed a summer internship at a major law firm. He was blossoming into a young man on the move and a leader, sharing his goals with me as he ticked each of them off. He began to call me “Mama” and I in turn thought of him as a son.

Johnnathan headed to Manhattanville College after graduating from high school. It turned out to be a bad fit for his personality and the ultimate path that he hoped to follow. He came home after his first year feeling a bit defeated, especially when he realized that many of the courses he had taken would not transfer to other universities. He sought out my counsel and I encouraged him to find a university more to his liking and then just keep plugging along, reminding him that earning a degree is not a race.

My husband and I took Johnnathan to Texas A&M University for a tour. He was enchanted with the place and seemed determined to one day be a student there. He learned what they expected him to do to earn a spot in the student body and began taking the classes that they had recommended at Wharton Junior College. He listened and learned from his professors there and made exceptional grades. Before long he had not only received an acceptance letter from A&M but the University of Houston as well. When UH offered him financial assistance his decision was made. He became a Cougar and never looked back.

Today Johnnathan Lopez will graduate from the University of Houston Hilton School of Hotel and Restaurant Management. While attending college he started and ran his own business and interned with a major beverage company. He worked hard and with the same positive attitude that has always been his trademark. Along the way he and I met often so that he might keep me apprised of his progress. Of course, everyone that he encountered in his collegiate journey was as impressed with him as I have always been.

Johnnathan is someone who is good to the very core of his being. He is a loving son, brother and friend. When he sets his sights on a goal he goes all the way until he has achieved it. He has a heart that is courageous, generous and bold. I fully expect him to set the world on fire.

When Johnnathan worked at the law offices way back in the day, he was surrounded by outstanding classmates who were also there. At the end of the summer he was nonetheless the one with whom the attorneys were the most impressed. Several of them told me that they felt that he had a particular charisma that would always serve him well. I have to agree with their assessment. Johnnathan Lopez will soon be off and running and I dare anyone to attempt to hold him back. He is a gentle warrior with a determined grit that will not be discouraged.

My heart is bursting with pride today. Johnnathan overcame all of the obstacles that were thrown in his path and emerged victorious. He is the real deal. Watch out world because here he comes!

Crickets or Thunderous Applause?

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

successIt’s been a little more than four years since I first began writing my blog. I spent my first year of retirement working sporadically on a book that I had wanted to write for years and somewhere along the way I hit a brick wall. I struggled to convey the emotion that I had hoped would become the heart of the story. I needed some guidance but had no idea where to turn. It was then that I noticed that the Rice University Glasscock School of Continuing Education offered a day long seminar for people like me who wanted to improve their craft and learn how to one day publish their work. I signed up immediately with Mike’s blessing even though the course was far more expensive than most of their offerings.

The class itself turned out to be frustrating on many levels. When I arrived late because I had become disoriented while attempting to follow a poorly designed campus map, all eyes turned on me with looks of undisguised irritation. I apologetically slinked into the first available seat and marveled at how many people appeared to share my dream of becoming an author. The room was packed with bestseller wannabes.

The guest speaker began her monologue much like a professor of freshman English by warning of the unlikelihood that any of us would ever live to see our words in print. She warned that the world of publishing and bookselling was changing everyday in ways that did not bode well for the fledgling author. She insisted that someone famous might create a work unworthy of lining a birdcage and hit the top of the New York Times bestseller list based solely on name recognition rather than talent, while a gifted but unknown author may never be discovered. The emphasis of the remainder of her remarks would focus on what it takes to be noticed in today’s dog eat dog market.

In an effort to relax us after frightening us, the instructor gave each attendee the opportunity to share a few words about the type of book he/she was writing. She patiently listened to person after person, providing encouragement and ideas. She laughed, smiled and applauded, noting that there were definitely going to be some winners from our obviously talented group. When it was my turn I nervously described the general outline and purpose of my memoir, expecting to feel better about my efforts once she gave me the proverbial pat on the back that she had extended to everyone else. Instead her face remained emotionless and without so much as a word she moved to the next person.

I felt like the class dunce as one after another fledgling author received the praise that had been denied me. I wondered if I was deluding myself into thinking that I had anything of worth to say. It was not until the break that I regained my composure. That’s when several of the participants approached me to admit that they would be anxiously awaiting the day when they might read my book. Each of them had personal stories of encounters with mental illness. One woman in particular confided that her twenty something son had become a recluse in her home, writing science fiction works for therapy. She had come to the class to learn how to distribute his stories to the public in the hopes of giving him a life goal. She literally began to cry as she urged me to continue with my quest to show the world how a family manages to triumph over diseases of the mind.

For the remainder of the session I learned all the reasons why it would be up to me to convince the world that I have a knack when it comes to composing with words. Our instructor suggested that one of the easiest ways to show people that our works are worth their time is to write a blog. At that moment I decided that I would try my hand at becoming an Internet journalist of sorts.

Since that fateful weekend I have arisen each weekday morning to write about this or that. I’ve watched for ideas virtually everywhere that I go. I’ve carried my laptop to campgrounds, airports, doctors’ offices, Starbuck’s, McDonald’s and all four corners of these United States. Mostly though, I’ve sat in my living room listening to sounds of the parade of humanity outside my home and I have opened up the contents of my heart for all to see. I’m not certain that I have expanded my fame as a writer but I have certainly become better at the one thing that I most enjoy doing.

In those early days of four years ago I drew on family experiences and whatever I happened to be doing at the time for my inspiration. I knew that I was hooked on the idea of being a low rent columnist when I sat in a tent one evening typing away in the middle of a raging thunderstorm. It never occurred to me that I might be struck by lightening or even electrocuted as I told the world about my angst in relying on the protection of a leaky tent whose roof was collapsing and corners were taking on water at an ominous rate. I only knew that the mere fact of describing and sharing my experience provided me with inexplicable happiness.

I’ve been at it now for so long now that I fear that I’m beginning to sound like a dotty old aunt who repeats her stories so many times that everyone in the room knows exactly what is coming next. I fear that my readers’ minds glaze over each time they see the second or third verse of what seems to be the same song. My website once hit a peak of five hundred visits each and every day. Over time my blogs were viewed over 800,000 times. Knowing that I had fans was a giddy feeling and made me believe that one day my book will be a huge success. Sadly, without warning, my readership began to slide. I modernized my page and appealed to my readers to continue to follow me but perhaps I have outlived my brief fame at just the time when I am so close to launching my book. The fear that I felt when the writing teacher showed no interest in what I was creating has returned. I wonder if I have been taking my time in completing a task that I began so long ago because I have lost my confidence in its worth. The writer’s dilemma is knowing when and where and how to share the personal thoughts that they have etched onto the virtual paper of a computer screen. It is admittedly a frightening prospect because all the world is a critic.

I am within fifty pages of completing the revisions on my book. It is both an exciting and a humbling task. After one more quick read to check for typos, spelling mistakes and punctuation errors I will be ready to format my work. I need to design a cover and insert photos, something that I have no idea how to do but will somehow learn. Then my memoir will debut. It’s so close that I can feel it and I’m quite nervous. My greatest fear is that once it is available the public response will be just like that of the writing guru who so quickly dismissed the worth of my idea four years ago. That would be devastating. I sometimes wonder if my efforts will be greeted with crickets or thunderous applause. The only way to find out will be to finally complete the task.

There Is Room At Our Inn

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

f41a8570f98033234e38d8be706b27c6Close your eyes and try to imagine life as you have always known it turned upside down. Your country is engaged in a civil war. The leader of your nation is a dictatorial tyrant. The members of the opposing factions are revolutionaries. You just want peace and to be left alone but that is impossible. The differing sides fight one another year after year. The beautiful city where you live has been reduced to rubble. You exist in a kind of ghost town because most of your friends and neighbors have already fled the destruction. Your children have no school to attend, no playmates, no security. They roam through piles of rubble and entertain themselves by exploring abandoned homes and buildings. Food and basic necessities are scarce. Your life has turned into a living hell. Your home is no longer a refuge. You reluctantly realize that the only option for you and your family is to leave the place that you love.

Giving up is not an easy decision to make. You are departing from a lifetime of memories and possessions. You carry only a change of clothes and perhaps a few precious mementos from the life you have known. As you exit you look back at your tiny corner of the world, perhaps for the very last time. You have no way of knowing what lies ahead. You have taken a forced leap of faith. Your heart is broken. You tell yourself that property and things are unimportant and that it is in the people that your true joy lies. As long as you are with your loved ones, you believe that you will ultimately be okay. Somehow you know that reality is never as simple as that, but you do what you must do. You embark on a journey into the great unknown. You begin again and hope for the best.

This morning as we enjoy the comfort of our own lives there are refugees from Syria and other troubled nations fleeing from war and persecution. They may look different from us and speak in tongues that we can’t understand but if we were able to talk with them we would learn that they are very much like us. They would rather be enjoying the routines that defined their days before political, religious and tribal fighting upended all that they had ever known. Their children are like our children, wanting to play and laugh. They are innocents caught up in forces over which they have no control. All that they desire is to keep themselves and their children safe but the world can at times be so cruel.

Most of these people now live in deplorable conditions in tent cities swarming with rats and infectious diseases. They await permission to travel to distant places where many of the citizens deplore their very presence. They are viewed with disdain by strangers who fear them. They are seen in the abstract, as nameless masses rather than the individuals that they are. Sometimes their situations become so painful that they take desperate risks to find a semblance of sanity. They never chose to be in this position. It was thrust upon them through no fault of their own and yet they are reviled by so many.

Throughout the history of the world there have been people reduced to becoming nomads because of the heartless decisions of those in power. The Israelites were enslaved by the Egyptians and later roamed in the wilderness in search of a home. Humans have been sold as slaves by warring tribes. My own grandparents lived in poverty and hopelessness in the Austro-Hungarian empire. Their entire way of life was threatened with extinction by a government that refused to even allow them to speak their own language. They left for the opportunities and promise in the United States, a place that did not always welcome them. They persisted but their early years were filled with challenges and ignorant prejudice.

My sister-in-law and her family had to flee their homeland of China when she was just a small girl. They left wearing layers of clothing and heavy coats with valuables sewn inside the lining. Their journey was treacherous and filled with uncertainty. Like today’s refugees they were forced to leave a world that they loved for one that they knew little about. They left behind people who had been important to them, whom they might never again see. Their move was traumatic but necessary. Had they stayed they may have been imprisoned or punished by being reduced to a state of poverty. They had no recourse but to leave and to hope that they would find a new home where they might be content.

After the fall of South Vietnam many of those who had sympathized with the losing side also had to escape. They found sponsors and homes all across the United States. I taught some of them. They proved to be fine people, outstanding citizens. They adapted and learned and worked just like my grandparents and my sister-in-law did. They enriched the American landscape.

There are many reasons why the flood of refugees from the Middle East may frighten Americans. We have witnessed terrorist attacks and we worry that jihadis may be hiding in the ranks of the ragtag people seeking asylum. Losing even one life because of a cavalier and unchecked sympathy for the masses seems to be too high a price to pay and yet our common sense tells us that the likelihood of ordinary families aspiring to become murderers is slim. We have to ask ourselves if we can possibly be so cold as to turn our backs on people who are suffering so much. Each of us no doubt has a story of an ancestor who sought out our country to escape from some form of persecution. Even the British branch of my genealogy points to individuals bound to lives of servitude in England who preferred the freedoms of the new world. It is in all of our natures to want to find liberty from tyranny.

I understand that the world is overwhelmed by the problems in the Middle East. I realize that there are truly evil people who hate us and wish us dead. I know that our resources are limited and we can’t possibly solve every problem in the world. Still, I look at children living in hopelessness and squalor and I wonder why we can’t be more open to offering them a way out of their misery. In the end we all want the best for our kids no matter who we are. We take a risk every single day that our goodness will be thrown back in our faces. There is no guarantee that we are not already breeding monsters who will one day do us harm. An ugly aspect of the human experience is that there are horrifically deranged people in every culture, every part of the world. It is neither more nor less likely that we will find such sorts within the people that we choose to help. It is simply a reality of life that those intent on destruction will find a way in spite of our best efforts. We needn’t punish an entire group base on an isolated fear. It has generally been an American tradition to open our hearts and risk being hurt from one for the good of the many.

We may be protected by the oceans on the two sides of our country but we are not isolated from the rest of the world. Their problems ultimately become ours and hiding our heads in the sand has never worked out well. Our finest moments as a nation have been when we opened our arms to welcome the newest immigrants and refugees. Most of us would not even be here if earlier generations has turned our ancestors away. We are a land of many colors, multiple ethnicities, different cultures. All of us blended together are what America is all about. I think that we do indeed have room for more.

Those of us who are Christians are all too familiar with the story of Jesus and His family. He was born in a stable because his parents were traveling to fulfill the demands of the census. The roads and the byways were crowded and there was no room for them at the inn. Let us not be guilty of turning away those who need our help. Let us find room at our inn.