Celebrations – Page 27 – All It Takes Is A Little Love

A Most Extraordinary Woman

Published on December 19, 2016December 14, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

14469587_10154575770011967_2241016345344877148_n-1 We worry as a society because there seems to be a noticeable lack of ethical behavior in today’s world. We’ve seen our fellow citizens gloss over lies when convenient and often make excuses for acts that might have been deemed unacceptable in the past. When individuals have the courage to speak up for their principles too often people chastise them for not going with the flow of modern day thinking. It is more and more difficult for someone to demonstrate moral courage because in doing so they may become the butt of insulting tweets or Facebook posts that demean them rather than celebrate them as the noble people that they are.

Joanna Rodriguez is my own personal hero. I watched this quiet and unassuming young woman become a warrior for justice at a moment in time when few of her peers were willing to step forward to do the right thing. There was an incident at the high school where I was the Dean of Faculty in which a group of students were caught attempting to make copies of an exam that had been stolen from one of the teachers. The principal gathered the members of the class together hoping that someone who had information on the culprits might acknowledge the truth. Instead there was a deadly conspiratorial silence in the room as the teacher emotionally urged his students to speak the truth.

Suddenly Joanna emerged from the back of the room and stood defiantly in front of her classmates. She spoke eloquently of the importance of providing information on anyone who may have been involved in the cheating. She was so moved in her search for the truth that her voice broke and she seemed to be on the verge of tears. Her classmates stared incredulously at her and for a time nobody spoke but they had indeed heard her words. Not long afterward several other highly respected members of the class secretly revealed who had been involved in the scandal.

I was in awe of Joanna Rodriguez for the depth of her character and for the bravery that she had exhibited. It was not in her nature to be the center of attention but it was very much like her to be a champion for what is right and just. I knew back then that our world was going to be a better place because it would have young people like her moving into positions of leadership in the future. Now Joanna is ready to assume the full mantle of adulthood as a graduate of the University of Houston Downtown with a degree in education.

Joanna has worked long and hard to reach this moment and she is more than prepared to become a teacher at KIPP Voyage Girls Academy this spring. She excelled in her classes and did an outstanding job as a student teacher. Little wonder that she was recruited by more than one school district. She has chosen to return to her roots in the KIPP Charter system to pay forward the lessons that she learned when she was young as well as those that she mastered in college.

Joanna will be an exceptional role model for the young ladies of KIPP Voyage. She carries herself with the kind of dignity and confidence that they need to see. She is bright and creative and most of all incredibly loving. I have little doubt that she will be successful at building lasting relationships with her students and that she will show them how to find their own paths to and through life. She is living proof that working hard and being nice pay huge dividends.

Joanna Rodriguez and young women like her represent the best of our future. She has become exactly the kind of person that we hoped she and her classmates would one day be. She is the culmination of efforts from many dedicated people and now she will accept the mantle of responsibility to continue those efforts in guiding a new generation of students. She is so real and so ready to embark on the most important work that anyone might ever do.

Joanna has had an exhilarating couple of months. In addition to completing her university requirements and practicing her craft as a student teacher, she became engaged to a very fine young man. I suspect that the two of them will eventually build a family as strong and loving as the one in which she grew in her own wisdom and grace. Her parents worked in tandem with those of us who were her educators and demonstrated their devotion to raising her well. She has enjoyed a very fine example of parenting that will serve her both in the classroom with her students and later if she decides to have children of her own.

I feel a certain sense of pride that Joanna has chosen to be a teacher. It is one of the most noble professions but it is also difficult. Sadly our society does not always celebrate the importance of educating the young. It sometimes takes true grit to expend the long hours and to endure the criticisms of a society that is willing to pay college football coaches millions while neglecting to honor the men and women who toil unsung in our schools. If there is anyone who has what it takes to rise above the clamor and realize the joy and importance of teaching, it is Joanna Rodriguez.

I hope that she finds as much fulfillment in her career as I did and that she has the pleasure of meeting many young people like herself. I wish for her to find the daily pleasure that is the reward of working with our young. I wish her well as she begins a journey that will be filled with many adventures and blessings. Most of all I thank her for including me in the climb to the top of her mountain. From where I stand the view is beautiful and I see a most wonderful future for her.

Gleeful Sounds

Published on December 16, 2016December 13, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

music-notes-clip-art-png-139835101453 My mother had so many natural talents, among them was an incredible ear for music. She had no idea what the notes on a sheet meant but she was able to clearly hear the nuances of melodies and harmonies. When she taught a group of fifth graders she became well known for the beautiful sounds of singing that wafted from her classroom. Other teachers would ask her to provide them with the music for her creations but she had no idea how to do so. She was untrained in the intricacies of composing but she had the ability to note even the tiniest change in the sounds that comprised the lovely arrangements of the musicians that she admired. Thus her choral direction lead her students to perform as beautifully as the Vienna Boys Choir.

Mama had a lovely alto voice and she knew the words to hundreds of songs. She and my father shared a love of music but he tended to favor only classical pieces whereas she was up to speed with all of the latest pop tunes as well. She rocked to the sounds of The Rolling Stones with as much enthusiasm as to the symphonies of Beethoven. She almost seemed to feel the music in some extraordinary way that traveled all the way through her body down to her feet. In addition to having a sixth sense about how to put voices together in perfect harmony she was an exceptional dancer who seemed to literally float above the floor when she performed her routines. When people complimented her grace and style and wondered where she had learned such skills she admitted that she was self trained. She carefully watched the best dancers of her era and imitated their moves.

My brothers and I liked to entertain ourselves and our neighborhood friends by putting on shows in the summertime. Our mother was our choreographer, teaching us how to tap dance in unison with our singing. As a vocal coach she designed intricate harmonies for us so that our performances seemed almost professional. While we loved the limelight when the audience of friends whooped and hollered in appreciation for our efforts what was most fun were the rehearsals with our mom. We were in awe of her ability to create such lovely renditions of the songs that we so loved. She made our little efforts seem so important and all of us recall those times with her with such joy.

Eventually we grew up and began families of our own. All of us had a definite love of music that felt as natural as the traits caused by our DNA. One brother tended toward my father’s way of thinking and preferred mostly classical pieces but he has a particular passion for popular female singers as well. The other brother went all the way with country songs, even developing a wonderful talent for two stepping in time with the tunes. My own interests in music run the gamut and I find myself discovering and enjoying new genres and artists even to this day.

When my children were young I encouraged them to appreciate music and dance as much as my mother did but I also went out of my way to provide them with formal lessons to help them along. I didn’t seem to have the talents that my mother did so I was of little use in providing them with guidance at home with one exception. Each Christmas I showed them how to sing White Christmas in four part harmony with me and my husband Mike. It worked out well because each of us had a different singing range. Mike took the baritone part, our eldest daughter was the alto, I did a low soprano and the youngest had a knack for hitting the high notes. We would sing our way to all of the Christmas Eve and Christmas day events with Bing Crosby crooning in the background. It became a tradition and for a time we were certain that if a talent scout were to hear our enchanting sounds we would immediately become super stars. Mostly though it was a fun time that bonded us with laughter and glee. It became as much a part of our holiday routine as finding oranges and nuts in our stockings. Somehow our rendition was especially spectacular in those years when the weather was rather frightful. It had the power to warm our hearts.

My grandchildren have all learned to play instruments and read music. They are quite good and appear to have a bit of the innate talent that my mother displayed. Jack has mastered the piano, guitar and French horn in addition to singing in musicals. Ian plays the cello like an angel. Eli took up the oboe like his mother did when she was his age and emits a sweet and haunting tone. Andrew did quite well with tenor saxophone but set it aside to study engineering. Abigail has an angelic voice but most enjoys creating lovely sounds with the clarinet. Ben plays the tuba with gusto and William makes the violin sing. They all have enjoyed the advantage of having well trained teachers to develop their talents and take them to ever more complex levels for learning the intricacies of music.

There is still something quite charming about the simple ditties that my brothers and I sang with the help of our mom. It was homespun fun of the kind that our ancestors probably enjoyed long ago when entertainment was beholden to imagination. After long days of work families were lucky to have anything more than the creativity that lived inside their heads to pass away the hours. The folk songs and handmade instruments that kept time with the tunes were all that they had and yet somehow in all cultures there were those who seemed to naturally understand how to use what they had to make music. Song and dance are part of our make up as human beings. It is something that we are drawn to do and enjoy.

These days my family choir has been reduced to just me and Mike. We still like to sing along with Bing and recall those times with our girls. It’s funny how we can’t remember all of the gifts that we have received for Christmas over the years but we do enjoy the fondest memories of our family choir. My brothers and I feel the same way about those show tunes and dances that we learned from our mother. They are bright spots in our minds that are more precious than possessions. There is something quite heartwarming about the simplicity of shared experiences that make us laugh and love together. Somehow they always seem to matter the most.

Lessons From The Gang

Published on December 15, 2016December 12, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

ourgang4_xlarge Back when I was a child most of the local television stations filled the programming hours in the afternoon with old black and white movies usually of the B variety. I never saw many A listers in those films but some of them were surprisingly good and memorable. I grew to have a particular affection for the short Our Gang flicks featuring an adorably talented group of children known as The Little Rascals. I didn’t realize back then that the beloved characters and stories that I watched so eagerly were filmed back in the 1920’s and 30’s. Those kids were long grown up by the time that I was laughing at their antics. They represented life during very hard times for the world and overriding all of their mischief there was always a moral for how to live life to the fullest. Their tales and the lessons they taught were universal enough to the human experience that I still think about how much they influenced me.

For some reason one of the episodes of that long ago time has stuck in my mind throughout my lifetime. It featured a family of children trying desperately to find an extraordinary gift for their mother. The little ones did odd jobs to earn money but even when they put all of their savings together they were still shy of having enough to purchase the kinds of presents that they so desperately wanted to give her. Their prayers appeared to be answered when they encountered a big sale at their local department store. Even though there were limited styles and sizes being offered at the low prices they managed to find an entire outfit of clothing for their mom, including a hat and shoes. It was with great fanfare and joy that they presented their gift of love to her.

The final scene shows the elated mother walking proudly down the street ignoring the gaping stares and whispers as she greets her friends and neighbors with her head held high. The dress from her little ones is quite obviously several sizes too large and hangs dangerously from her shoulders ready to drop to the ground if she does not walk very carefully. The shoes are little better and the hat is quite ridiculous. Still the pride with which she carries herself and the smile on her face insures her children that she is enchanted by the outfit that they worked so hard to buy her. Her selflessness and gratitude radiates and the smiles on the kids’ faces tell a story all its own.

In this season of giving we have at times become all too expectant in our wants and desires. Madison Avenue has somehow convinced us that this should be a time for receiving a new car or very expensive jewelry or electronics. The spaces underneath our Christmas trees are often crammed with gifts that may or may not satisfy us or those to whom we give our offerings. Most of us would be unlikely to demonstrate the kind of appreciation for a misfit gift that the mom in that old production showed to her children. Instead of simply enjoying the thoughts behind the many gifts that we receive we all too often obsess over whatever may have been lacking.

My mother loved visiting friends and family at Christmastime. It was quite fun going from one house to another and viewing the Christmas decorations and presents under the trees. One lady that Mama knew always received professionally wrapped gifts from her husband. They were so lovely that I would have had a difficult time tearing the paper and bows apart to find out what was inside. There always seemed to be mountains of boxes just for her. I remember thinking how wonderful it would be if my widowed mom had someone to be so extravagant and thoughtful to her. She had to be satisfied with the small homemade things that my brothers and I gave her but her friend seemed to be feted like a queen. Ironically instead of being happy she complained every single year about how she would no doubt have to take everything back because her man had such poor taste. She insisted that it was a trial for her to even think of opening the presents because she was convinced that she would dislike them all. Somehow it never occurred to her how hard he was trying to please her. The attitude that she proclaimed seemed so wrong to me and I wanted to fuss at her but I was just a child and such lectures would have been wrong. Instead I told myself that I would never ever be so selfish.

A gift is far more than just the item inside a package. It is an outward sign that someone cares and has taken the time and the resources to show love. Regardless of how small, a present should never be taken for granted. Instead we should treasure the idea behind the offering. Someone in the busyness of the day has thought to make us happy. If we consider how powerful such an act is then we realize that it really is the thought that counts.

My father read so many fairytales to me but the one that seemed to resonate the most was about a fisherman who caught a magic flounder. He was granted a wish if he agreed to throw the hapless fish back into the water. Knowing that his wife was saddened by the deplorable condition of the shanty in which they lived he asked that he receive a nice little home. When he returned from work that evening his wife was beaming as she emerged from a small but tidy cabin. When he told her how the miracle had come to pass she frowned and upbraided him for making such a small request. Instead of being satisfied by her improved condition she longed for more.

As luck would have it the fisherman once again caught the magical creature who offered yet another wish. This time he was more specific in requesting a mansion with lots of money to match the splendor of the house. By this time his wife was on to the game and she met him at the door railing that he still had not requested enough. She fretted that he might have done so much better and became ever more unhappy even in the midst of splendor. Of course as the tale proceeds the fisherman catches the fish again and again asking for more and more audacious gifts with each new opportunity. In the end the flounder decides to give the man what he needs rather than what he thinks he should have. The hapless fisherman returns home to find his wife standing in front of the shanty that had originally been their home.

In this season we would all do well to keep our desires within reason and teach our children to do the same. Learning how to appreciate the blessings that we have is crucial to finding the happiness that we all seek. The baby for whom the holiday was named was not a king or a man of power but a humble soul. We would all do well to follow His example and to remember the moral of the story of mankind that is repeated over and over again. It is in giving that we truly receive. It is in loving that we find the greatest joy.

The Gift of Love

Published on December 12, 2016December 8, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Gift pile A Boys and Girls Club in Atlanta recently performed a small experiment and filmed the results. They brought in young children whose economic status was such that they might not receive any gifts for Christmas and asked them what they would choose if they could have their dream present. The kids wanted everything from a laptop computer to more traditional toys. Then they were told to name something that might be good for their parents. The ideas included jewelry, a big screen television, articles of clothing and such.

The children were delighted with the idea of being able to provide a surprise for their family members but soon learned that there was a twist. They would either receive the gift for themselves or the one that they had chosen for the parent. With the two items sitting in front of them every youngster took only seconds to conclude that giving was far more important than receiving and they picked the presents for their loved ones, noting that nothing was better than family. In the end the children actually received both gifts but not before genuinely believing that they were giving up their own dream presents.

Human nature tends toward goodness rather than evil. We see news reports of vile incidents but given the millions upon millions of people on this earth they are the exception rather than the rule. One of the reasons that we are so shocked when violent acts occur is because the odds of their happening is generally low. Mostly our world is filled with decent people who have generous spirits much like the children who were willing to sacrifice their hearts’ desires for their parents.

The kids were correct in noting how much their moms and dads had done for them. The average parents do incredible things for their children on a regular basis, setting needs and desires aside just so the little ones will enjoy safe and happy lives. Their offspring are rarely far from their thoughts. They feed and clothe them and provide as safe and loving environments as possible. They teach them and play with them. Theirs are full time jobs that begin early in the morning hours and extend until late at night, sometimes with interruptions that deprive them of sleep. The routines last for years and even when the children leave home as adults the parents still worry and fret. Somehow the caring behaviors are almost instinctual with models for parenting passed down from one generation to the next.

Of course we hear of want, abuse, neglect, broken families and we worry that our society is losing some of its vitality. We wonder if single parent homes are as strong as those with two parents. We fret that very non-traditional situations may harm children. I have found in my own experience that as long as the household is centered on love, kids will thrive. They do not need things as much as they need to know that someone truly cares for them.

I often hark back to stories that I have heard from my students. I recall the little girl whose only wish was that her mother might receive a mattress from Santa Claus so that her parent would no longer have to sleep on a pallet on the floor. I think of the young man whose goal of graduating from high school was motivated by the sacrifices that his mom made everyday. His eyes filled with tears as he thought of her arriving home from work late each night after toiling for fifteen hours. He spoke of her exhaustion and swollen ankles and her never ending desire to build a better life for him. He was determined to do whatever it took to pay her back for all that she had done.

My own mother had few possessions. Her focus had always been on me and my brothers and eventually on her grandchildren and great grandchildren. Her closet held more gifts for us than clothing for her. She kept a card table at the ready for wrapping presents and shopped for bargains all year long, storing items away for birthdays and Christmas. She enjoyed our excursions to stores where she might find a seventy or eighty percent off sale with additional coupons that brought prices down to a range that she might afford. She combed through aisles searching for just the right delights for each person. When the time came to present her treasures to the lucky recipients she felt as joyful in watching them react as she would have if she had been surprised with a brand new car. Like the children who were willing to give up their own gifts, our mama essentially chose to sacrifice her personal desires in favor of ours over and over again.

I have enjoyed reading since I was quite young. One of my favorite stories from O. Henry was The Gift of the Magi. It is a Christmas classic that tells of a young man and woman with very little money who struggle to purchase each other the perfect gift. The ironic tale demonstrates our human tendency to go to great lengths to bring happiness to those that we most love.

In this holiday season the stores will be filled with people hoping to find the perfect gifts to demonstrate their profound feelings for their families and their friends. Some see this tradition as being too commercial but I choose to think of it as an outward sign of our never ending love for those who mean so much to us. We may sometimes overdo things a bit but for most of us the intent is as pure as the characters in O. Henry’s story. The season of giving derives from the ultimate sacrifice that the baby born in a manger in Bethlehem so long ago would eventually make for all of us, His very life.

This is my favorite time of year when our generous natures shine forth in the lights and the many symbols of the season. Whether we celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa, or simply enjoy a holiday from work there is a happiness all around the world that comes from sharing our blessings with others. We’ve been celebrating and giving in the middle of winter for centuries and something tells me that we will continue for many more, at least I hope that is the case. Underneath all of the tinsel is love.

Be An Elf

Published on December 8, 2016December 6, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

3485j5ydzhjnpsnenhzpaiqdb69 One of my favorite Christmas movies is Elf, the story of Buddy, an orphan who stole away in Santa’s bag on Christmas Eve and ended up being raised at the North Pole. Buddy is as sweet as the sugary diet that he so loves but somehow he doesn’t quite fit in with the other elves. When he learns about his true identity he sets off to New York City in search of his birth father and hopefully finding an idea of who he really is.

I love Buddy for his unadulterated innocence. He doesn’t seem to have a mean bone in his body even though he is not always treated with the love and respect that he accords to everyone he meets. He seems strange in a world of hustle, bustle and competition but people eventually respond to his genuine nature. He finally learns that just being himself is his best talent.

I’ve been fortunate to know many individuals much like Buddy, people who almost appear to be otherworldly in their ability to see the good in every person and situation. One of the first of such people that comes to my mind is one of my former principals, Joe. To this day his face is continually lit with what seems to be a permanent grin that is so spectacular it lights up a room. He is filled with happy greetings no matter the time of day. I have to admit that am not a morning person so I sometimes avoided Joe in the earliest part of the school day because I felt overwhelmed by his expansive good nature. Still, in my heart I loved that he was so exuberant and open. I know the kids did.

Joe began his career working with special needs children. I suspect that he was wonderful in that regard because he is so accepting of everyone exactly the way they are. As a principal he reveled in making everyone happy. He started each school day with optimism and spent his hours thinking of ways to bring out the best in people. He’s retired now and often travels to Haiti and other countries that have experienced difficulties. He volunteers his time and talents and makes many friends. His Facebook posts are infinitely positive and hopeful, filled with inspiration and faith. He even takes the time to warn all of us who are his friends to be careful as we travel about during the holiday season.

My mother was a beautiful soul like Joe, almost childlike in her interactions with people. She seemed to be a lovely sprite with one of those magical smiles that only very special people have. Like Buddy, the elf-human, she found great joy in the simplest things. Nothing made her happier than a really good cup of coffee or an ice cream cone. She enjoyed looking at Christmas lights and she didn’t need an expensive display to feel excited. A few strands across a front porch were enough to make her happy.

Some people saw my mother as an eccentric but most learned to return the love that she gave so freely. She literally spent her days thinking about everyone that she knew and she gave to so many charitable organizations that she barely had enough money at the end of the month to meet her own obligations. She scoffed when I reminded her to be more careful with her funds and insisted that she would be fine which, in fact, she usually was.

I have known many young people who were so much like Buddy, Joe and my mother. Among them is Danny, one of the most remarkable young people that I have ever had the pleasure of teaching. Danny claims that he was not always as agreeable as he now is. He tells a story of a troubled past that landed him in the hands of the police. When he realized how close he had come to ruining his life and when he saw how devastated his mother was, he set out to change direction. He did so with great determination and the Danny that I met was kind, sincere, honest and peaceful.

Danny is a valiant prayer warrior. It is through God that he has found his way. Whenever I request that Danny storm the heavens for a particular cause miracles seem to happen. He is a person that everyone seems to love and admire, a leader who exemplifies the kind of high moral character to which we all aspire. He literally radiates empathy and a holy spirit.

I once taught a young lady who was much like Danny. Her family was homeless and she slept in the trunk of a car each evening. Many young girls might have been angry and disruptive given such dire circumstances but she was quite literally optimistic and content that her situation was only temporary. In the meantime she made the best of things and found ways to see her lifestyle as a kind of adventure. She somehow managed to do all of her homework and came to school hiding her poverty behind the two outfits that she alternated. She spoke of how lucky she was to get breakfast and lunch at the school each day and had high praise for the owner of the funeral home behind which her family lived. They allowed her to use the bathroom facilities and to sit inside while she tended to her studies. She searched their dumpster each evening for “treasures” including the flowers that she brought me. I suspect that I learned more from this precious child than she ever learned from me.

I always thought of my grandmother as a kid in an old woman’s body. It was difficult for me to imagine her boarding a ship all by herself to come to America and a strange new way of living. Like Buddy, she was so uncomplicated. She needed little to be satisfied. A fresh loaf of rye bread or a Whitman’s Sampler was akin to a pot of gold for her. She appeared to know little of the world or the hatefulness that lurked outside her door. My mother said that she hugged and kissed and protected her children with all of her might. She lived her days in peace and offered her love without any restrictions.

We are surrounded by many people like Buddy and the others that I have described. Sometimes we think that they are a bit unconventional. We may worry about them because they are so guileless. Somehow they manage through the force of their love to pry open even the most hardened hearts. They change our world for the better. We know that just being with them makes us happy.

I’d like to think that we all have a bit of Buddy in us, we just need to allow our inner child to emerge. Not only will we make the people around us feel better but I suspect that our souls will feel more harmonious as well. Be an elf. Smile and enjoy the beauty of the moment and the people that we encounter as we go about the business of our days.