Celebrations – Page 32 – All It Takes Is A Little Love

Dream Vacation

Published on July 4, 2016June 30, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Amboy, Kalifornien, USA, Hist. Route 66 By this time tomorrow Mike and I will begin a twenty one day junket to California in our travel trailer along with two of our grandchildren. We are either excitingly adventurous or stunningly crazy. The potential for problems when pulling a tiny home thousands of miles behind a truck in abnormally hot weather is high. We’ve already experienced a number of unexpected kinks in our plans on short hops in the past. We’ve practiced our camping skills time and again. We have overcome violent thunderstorms, excruciatingly long roadwork delays, appliances that failed to work properly, attacks by tiny insects and a host of other difficulties that shall remain unspoken. Now comes the greatest test of all. We will either demonstrate our mettle or fail miserably.

Mike and I both have ancestors who braved the unknown to travel to a new world. The earliest among his arrived on the Mayflower. Mine were latecomers to Jamestown. Over decades and then centuries our family trees grew more and more complex and the branches took our people from Massachusetts to Nebraska, Virginia to Texas. The hardy souls who were our third, fourth and fifth great grandparents sailed across oceans in cramped quarters that make our trailer seem like a grand palace. They pulled wagons into dense forests and over mountainous roads. They lived without electricity or running water and somehow survived. They learned how to adapt to the environment and willed themselves to overcome hardship and disease. I suspect that we still bear some of their traits and thus will be just fine in our full hookup campsites with wifi, swimming pools, laundries and grocery stores.

Our plan is to pick up our youngest grandson William in San Antonio tomorrow along with his sister Abigail. Our first stop will be at South Llano River State Park for a good night’s rest before navigating through west Texas to Carlsbad Caverns. We plan to spend an entire day inside the magnificent cave that is truly one of the world’s wonders. From there our journey will take us to Santa Fe. In a stroke of luck we will be in that cultural mecca during the International Art Festival that occurs only once a year. We hope to venture to the Anasazi ruins of Chaco Canyon while we are nearby area as well. After three days and nights we will continue moving west to Sedona, a place that is reputed to be so beautiful that we may be tempted to forego the rest of our trip so that we might enjoy the scenery and the welcoming environment for a longer time than one evening. If our timing is perfect we may even go north for the afternoon to catch the sunset over the Grand Canyon, a sight that we have already experienced but which can never be seen too often. Continuing on we will spend a night in Needles, California within striking distance of our ultimate goal, Los Angeles. For the next seven days we will enjoy the multitude of scenery and entertainment in both LA and San Diego. The return trip will take us rather quickly down I-10 through Arizona and New Mexico until we reach Fort Davis where we will tarry for a time before returning to South Llano River in Junction and then back to San Antonio to drop off the kids before returning home. It will either be a dream vacation or a horrible nightmare. It all depends on the vagaries of nature and the unexpected behaviors of our fellow human beings, not to mention the multitude of possible problems that may occur with our mechanical equipment.

I laugh when I think of how soft we modern souls have become compared to our forefathers. On this day I often think of them and the incredible sacrifices that they made in the hopes of improving their lives. Passage across the ocean involved traveling thousands of miles with only scant knowledge of what lay ahead. It meant never seeing family and friends again. Every moment of every day was fraught with problems and no luxuries as we think of them today. Even the old homestead of my great grandparents spoke of the hardship and depravation that was their reality only one hundred years ago. We have advanced to an extent that truly boggles the mind. The pioneers who stretched out across this continent so long ago would be stunned to see us going from Texas to California and back in only twenty one days. They would think it amazing to learn that we can watch movies inside our “iron buggies” as we move rapidly down a concrete road and that we are rarely far from conveniences that they never considered even in their dreams.

The first colonists in the United States of America came to a rugged and dangerous land. So many of them died before they even took their steps off of the ships that brought them. Some grew and prospered and others merely subsisted. After two hundred years generations of people had lived here under the auspices of a king and a country that they had never seen. Being ruled from afar by a government that little understood their unique situations became untenable and they rebelled. Theirs was a revolution against one of the most powerful countries in the world and on July 4, 1776 they brashly declared their independence and intent to form a new kind of government. It was a moment that was viewed with skepticism in the halls of power around the world and yet somehow almost two hundred fifty years later our nation stretches from sea to sea across a continent that still seems to be working out the kinks of determining its identity.

We were guided by humans to this very moment in history when all the world looks to us either with profound admiration or seething hate. We understand our flaws and continue to strive to correct them. We are desirous of being a kind nation but wary of being too soft. We struggle to strike a balance between love of country and understanding of our role in a global community. The old questions and disagreements that plagued our founders stalk us even today. Still we are remarkable and I suspect that our ancestors would be quite proud of our accomplishments. They would no doubt caution us to proceed into the future with an eye to preserving the foundations upon which this nation was built while adapting to the realities of a time that they might never have imagined.

Somehow it seems fitting that Mike and I will be taking our grandchildren to see the wonders of this glorious country of ours during the month that sparked our independence. Wish us godspeed as we travel and help us to find McDonald’s for our breakfast, Walmart for our provisions and Starbucks to quench our thirst and keep us alert. We are venturing into a modern day version of the wild. Let us hope that when we think of our trip in the years to come we will remember it as our dream vacation.

Things That Make Me Smile

Published on June 25, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

I’ve got a goofy smile. One eye squints almost shut and my mouth is crooked. I resemble a gnome when I’m happy but but I still love any occasion that turns up the corners of my mouth. This month I’ve had a number of such times and all of them have involved people. The truth is that no amount of money nor fame is better than knowing that there are people who really care about me and that I in turn love. I’ve been lucky enough to see many of them of late and all of them make me beam with unadulterated joy.

I try to get together with a group of friends from my last job as often as possible. Most of them are still working so it’s not easy to find a date when we are all free but luckily we did so not long ago. We met up at Ninfa’s on Navigation which, on a side note, I highly recommend. As is always the case we laughed and chattered and felt so very relaxed with one another. A plus was the fact that the food was also great. Someone remarked that most of us were English majors in college. I don’t know if that has anything to do with how well we get along but it’s amazing how in sync we always seem to be. We’ve agreed to meet again before school starts so that we might compare stories about the trips that each of us will be taking during these warm months. I have no doubt that we will once again talk and grin until we get dirty looks from the waiters hoping that we get the hint and move on.

A certain graduation brought a huge smile to my face recently. It was for a young man whom I had tutored for three years. He had worked quite hard to earn his diploma and I knew as well as anyone how much the occasion meant to him. I felt as though I was floating through the air when he walked across the stage. It was as grand a day as I have experienced in a long time. My face must have shown my elation as the corners of my mouth almost touched my ears.

My grandson is home from college for the summer. I only got to see him a couple of times during the school year. He attends Purdue University and has a schedule as busy as the President of the United States. It was so good to finally meet up with him at Bob’s Taco Station if only for an hour or so. I marveled at how much he has matured in only one short year. He is definitely a man now. Not a shred of boyishness seems to remain in his demeanor. A smile of pride and of course lots of love lit up my face the whole time that we were together.

I had the privilege of serving as a chaperone for my godson and his brother while their mother attended a conference a couple of weeks ago. We all flew together to Boston and while she worked, we played. Boy was it fun! I suspect that I was even smiling in my sleep. We saw so many wondrous things but best of all we got to know each other even better. It was a very special time in which we laughed and told silly stories and just felt as comfortable as can be. I can’t wait until I am needed for another trip one day. We built some important memories together which will no doubt always bring brightness to my face whenever I recall them.

My second oldest grandson is going to be a senior in high school next year. He is in the process of visiting colleges and so Mike and I took him to Texas A&M University a week ago. We had a grand time touring the recreation center, the dorms and many of the engineering buildings. I have a particular love for the Aggies because my father was one. Every time I visit the campus I feel his spirit. I know that he will be quite proud if his great grandson decides to get his education there. I smiled quite a bit at the thought of having another Aggie in the family, especially the one who just happens to be named after my dad. When my grandson admitted that he would be quite excited to go there I suspect that my grin was so big that I resembled a Cheshire cat. It was fun to be able to share this important moment with him.

Last Saturday I invited several of my former students to a party at my house. I wanted to celebrate their graduations from college. It was rewarding to hear how wonderfully they are all doing. I want to believe that I may have had at least a tiny bit of influence on them. I know that they bring me incalculable happiness. Knowing that they have already accomplished so much makes my teaching years seem all the more fruitful. I smiled and smiled and smiled as they spoke of their successes and their dreams. I hope that my expression told them how much I love them.

On Father’s Day I made dinner for Mike and his dad. We had an incredible time just as we always do. They are the two most important men in my life. Both of them watch over me and would probably walk through fire for me. Just being with them is reason enough to smile. We have a long history of sharing happiness and sorrow. I burst into a visage of elation when I think of how lucky I have been to be with the two of them. They make me feel so beautiful and important that I fairly beam.

I just spent the past week in a trailer built for two with my daughter and her three children. Stuffing the six of us inside reminded me of a circus act when dozens of clowns go inside a tiny car. For a time the refrigerator didn’t work and all of us were almost eaten alive by chiggers but somehow we muddled through. Nothing could have kept me from beaming from ear to ear. Just being together was all that I needed to feel elated. We went to see movies on a workday afternoon and ate delicious hamburgers and fries from Hopdoddy. We walked through museums filled with scientific wonders and history. In the evenings I watched the children swim at McKInney Falls. They were so delighted as they jumped into the cooling waters. Our time together was a blast and we hardly noticed that we were stuffed inside our home on wheels like sardines.

While we were camping in Austin one of my cousins invited us to visit with her and her family. They treated us to a gourmet dinner that included a taste test of seven different yummy desserts. The kids had great fun playing with Legos and making music while we adults enjoyed sharing stories about our ancestors. There were happy faces all around.

These are the things that make me smile. Right now I’m feeling quite content as I gaze on the flowers in my yard and watch the birds playing in the trees. It’s summertime and the whole world is seems to be alive. Best of all my adventures have only just begun. We’ll be celebrating my mother’s birthday on Monday and in about a week we will head for California. There are so many reasons to be elated that I suspect I am wearing a smile even now.

Our Fathers

Published on June 20, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

I read so many beautiful tributes to fathers yesterday. I looked at photos and videos of the men who tirelessly dedicate themselves to their families. I must admit that Father’s Day has been a bittersweet event for me ever since my own daddy was killed in a car crash back in 1957, so when I saw a post from a young woman whose father died only weeks ago I empathized with the grief that she is still feeling. I viscerally understood her sense of loss. It is something that never completely goes away. Fathers are an important part of who each of us is and who we eventually become.

After my father died our family struggled to determine how to celebrate Father’s Day. There was a huge void in our lives that my mother tried desperately to fill for us but which she never quite accomplished. We had other male role models like uncles and my grandfather who were wonderful in their own right and did their best to watch over us. From them we learned how good men behave. We felt secure because of them and our mom. We used to joke that our mama was both our mother and our father and we often gave her a little gift on Father’s Day. Still in the back of our minds was a sense of regret that we would never really know our father in an adult way. He would be forever young and we would only know him in an immature way.

I loved fairytales and I identified with characters who had lost their fathers. I suppose that I idealized my father. Over time I only remembered the most wonderful and remarkable things about him. I often fantasized about how different life would have been if he had never been killed. Mostly though my brothers and I adapted to the reality of our situation. We learned that growing up in a single parent home didn’t have to be sad and dreary. Our mother was wonderful and she kept memories of our father alive by telling stories about him and boasting of his brilliance and love.

When I became a teacher I encountered so many young people who like me had no fathers. Some of them were children of divorce who divided their time between their parents. Others had never known their dads. All of them longed to know more about the man who had helped to create their lives. It seems to be human nature to want knowledge of both our mothers and our fathers and their families as well.

I watched the new version of Roots that was shown on several channels a few weeks ago. Perhaps the strongest theme of that series was the importance of family. We cling to the lessons that our parents teach us and even when they are no longer with us we remember and appreciate what they have done for us. In the story of Kunta Kente we follow his life from the time that he is a young man living happily with his family in Africa to his capture and imprisonment as a slave when he was forced to adapt to a new world without freedom. He kept his dignity because he felt the spirit of his father inside his very soul. He passed those feelings down to his children even when they too were ripped from the people who most loved them. From one generation to the next the lessons that Kunta Kente had learned were a treasured part of the family lore.

All of us want and need the steadying hands of our parents. It is of course most ideal when we have both of them but many of us have to be content with only one parent. Some of us even have parents who did not birth us but who love us nonetheless. It is in the care and comfort that they provide that we grow into capable adults.

Fathers form the bedrock of our existences. President Barack Obama longed to understand his own father and journeyed around the world attempting to understand the man with whom his mother created a life. Like me he grew up with males who were surrogate role models. He loved them and appreciated the support that they gave him but he needed to learn the roots of who he was by reflecting on the life of his dad.

Mike and I spent Father’s Day with my father-in-law. Julio Gonzales who is as good a father as there ever was. He married Mike’s mom when Mike was five years old. He became the papa who was there for every milestone. He provided Mike with a home, food, an education. He taught him how to be a good and loving man. He is Mike’s real father in every sense of the word and the grandfather of our daughters. He is the patriarch of our family, the steadying force who stands at the center of our lives. He worries and frets over us just as he did when Mike was still a boy. He never stops being a dad.

The funeral for my son-in-law’s grandfather was held on Saturday. He was 101 years old and beloved by a huge extended family that will miss his storytelling, wit and wisdom. Like other fathers he spent a lifetime protecting and caring for his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. They were all the focal point of his life. He worked hard and played hard with them. He was willing to sit down in the dirt with a child to play with a doodle bug. He enjoyed entertaining his family with legendary jokes and smiles.

There are many kinds of fathers and sometimes there are no fathers. We all seem to need them or at least a substitute for them. They teach us how to live and love and laugh.

I still remember my own father reading voraciously and loving sports and politics. I can see him fishing and laugh when I think of how he carried his pole in the trunk of his car just in case he found a body of water and a few minutes of leisure time. He was an historian, an artist and an engineer. He loved his friends and our mother and me and my brothers. He was a man of culture who played classical music and recited poetry. He was an adventurer who wanted to see the world. Even though he was only with me for eight years he taught me all that I needed to know. He showed me how to be my very best. He lives in me and my brothers to this very day.

I hope that all of the wonderful fathers that I know enjoyed themselves yesterday. I hope that they realize just how much they will always be loved by their children. We don’t always take the time to convey our feelings to our fathers and the men who substitute for our fathers but the thoughts are always there in our hearts.

A Determined and Beautiful Soul

Published on June 7, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

Angelo13335985_1334593716556631_590632749242879864_n (1) I graduated from Mt. Carmel High School fifty years ago. When I left I never really looked back. Like most teenagers my four years in secondary education had been both the best and the worst of times. I have warm memories of friendships and educational explorations but also painful thoughts of hurts and slights. Fortunately the good far outweighed the bad and the things that I learned there served me well in the years, then decades that followed.

I was always quite proud of my school because at the time that I was there it was an institution marked by academic rigor and excellence. Over time it began to lose its luster and enrollment dwindled. It remained in a location that was hardly conducive to attracting students whose parents were willing to pay large sums of money for their children’s edification. As a Catholic school with little or no support from the Diocese of Galveston Houston it struggled to keep up with even minimal repairs and to maintain a faculty willing to work for ridiculously low wages. The time came when the school was no longer able to sustain itself and it had to close its doors, reinventing itself as a charter school within the Houston Independent School District. It became a ghost of its former self known as Mt. Carmel Academy now located in an old church building a few blocks away.

The ediface where I had blossomed into a citizen of the world stood on Mt. Carmel Drive in ruins and there was talk of tearing it down until a visionary named Father T.J. Martinez envisioned a new life for the battered place. He realized that it would be a perfect home for a Cristo Rey High School along the lines of others that had been created in a network that spans all the United States. With a never ending imagination and an uncanny knack for fundraising Father Martinez transformed the place into a dazzling urban environment. In 2008 Cristo Rey Jesuit Preparatory High School of Houston opened its doors for the first time. It’s focus was on economically disadvantaged students who might not otherwise have the opportunity to receive a rigorous education coupled with a foundation of religious teaching and social justice.

I had heard about Cristo Rey and followed its progress with interest, particularly because its location was directly connected with my past. When I retired five years ago I found myself foundering a bit because I wasn’t quite ready to live a life of leisure. I still wanted to contribute something significant to society and so I found myself searching for some type of part time employment. When I mentioned my quest on Facebook a former colleague who was working at Cristo Rey told me that the school needed someone to tutor students in mathematics. I met with the principal and felt an immediate connection with the her and the organization’s mission. Before long I was driving back to my old digs three afternoons each week.

My first year was somewhat slow and I often waited in a classroom for an hour or so with no takers for my skills. By the second year, however, a group of students attended with regularity, sometimes bringing friends who were struggling with Algebra or Geometry. The numbers of young people that I was helping began to swell and among them was a young man named Angelo Vela.

Angelo is an affable young man with an infectious smile and a loyal group of friends. His freshman year at Cristo Rey had been highly successful for him but things had begun to go awry after the death of his grandmother who had lived with him and his mother. He had attempted to work to help ease some of his family’s financial burdens but found himself feeling chronically exhausted and eternally behind in meeting his obligations. He struggled to complete assignments and began to feel overwhelmed with academics, something that had never before happened to him. With a unflagging determination to recoup, he faithfully met with me whenever I was at the school and on many occasions worked late into the night. Before big tests or exams he often requested that I come more than just three days in a week and I generally deferred to his wishes because I was struck by his determination.

Over the next three years I got to know Angelo well. I realized that he possesses a keen intellect and a charisma that naturally draws people to him. Mostly though I saw that he has a genuine interest in people and in helping them to solve their problems and find their true identities. He is also a leader and someone who is unafraid to take risks. I became convinced over time that he is definitely going to be someone who will have a positive impact on the world because he literally never gives up.

Angelo once hunted me down when I was on a camping trip in west Texas during spring break. He had found an opportunity for summer learning and he needed to quickly procure a reference so that he might meet the application deadline. He had attempted to contact several people with no success until his texts reached me. I was more than happy to vouch for him because I had seen his earnest nature and grit up close. He ultimately became a finalist for the spot but lost to another student. Instead of brooding, Angelo learned from the experience and moved on to his next conquest.

Angelo Vela graduated from Cristo Rey High School this past Saturday. He sent me a unique invitation that he had created from his heart. He included photos and through texts expressed a sincere desire that I share his triumphant moment with him. Of course I was thrilled to go. I understood the hours of grueling effort that Angelo had put into achieving the first of the many goals that he has for himself. I was as proud of him as I have ever been. It made my heart sing to watch him walking across the stage. He had shown his strength of character and had proven his doubters wrong.

Angelo plans to attend the University of Houston in the fall. I suspect that he and I will continue to stay in contact. I have a vested interest in his future success. Those of us who know him best realize that he has yet to reveal the true extent of his many talents but they will surely become more and more apparent in the coming years.

I have a deep respect for Angelo Vela and I am particularly grateful that he gave me such wonderful purpose at a time in my life when I had thought that my days of influence were long gone. I wish him all the best at he enters college along with his friends who also attended my tutoring sessions on so many afternoons.

Congratulations Angelo, Angel, Lauren, Yolanda, and Taylor, my very favorite tutees. You have all demonstrated your willingness to work hard, ask questions and put forth whatever extra effort is needed to meet your goals. I look forward to watching you in the exciting days ahead.

Go Forth in Remembrance

Published on May 30, 2016 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

k10304515 Memorial Day on the last day in May has come to represent the beginning of summer even though the laws of astronomy give that designation to a different date. It is a three day weekend holiday designated by Congress. There are few better times to buy mattresses or large home appliances. People flock to the beach on this day and gather around swimming pools and barbecue pits. American flags fly from the porches of homes all across the land. For many the true intent of Memorial Day has become lost in a haze of celebration having little to do with what this national holiday was originally intended to be.

The Civil War left our nation broken and bereft. Over 600,000 Americans had lost their lives in the conflict. People in both the north and the south attempted to heal their wounds and sorrows with annual tributes to those who had fallen in battle. The homage sometimes included parades but the main focus was to be found at the grave sites of the soldiers who had been killed in those terrible battles. Family, friends, and sometimes even sympathetic strangers would bring flowers to the cemeteries. Some even carried food for picnics and held solemn vigils. These were days of remembrance and honor that went by different names and occurred in different times and places.

Three years after the conclusion of the Civil War an organization of Union soldiers, the Grand Army of the Republic, established Decoration Day to be held on May 30 to honor those who had died in the Civil War. It is believed that this date was chosen because it coincided with a season when there is always an abundance of flowers. After World War I President Woodrow Wilson declared that the day be forevermore known as Memorial Day and that it be a time of remembrance for all soldiers who have died in the service of our country. It was not until the nineteen sixties that Memorial Day was set to occur on the last Monday of May to create a three day weekend associated with the national holiday.

Over a million members of the military have died while engaged in active duty. It is a staggering number and yet the vast majority of Americans today have little or no experience with losing a loved one or a friend in a war. Talk with individuals in their sixties, seventies, eighties and nineties, however, and there will be more and more eyewitness stories of young soldiers lost in World War I, World War II, the Korean War and the War in Vietnam. While those conflicts seem to be almost ancient history now, for those who saw the blood being spilled, the memories are as vivid as the actual events.

I have watched my father-in-law cry when reluctantly relating stories of fallen comrades in the Korean War. I have friends who speak of relatives who came back home dramatically changed from the War in Vietnam. They tell of husbands and fathers who still have nightmares because of what they saw. My mother’s eyes used to fill with tears as she told of school chums who never returned from battlefields across Europe and the Pacific. I have run my fingers across the names of school buddies whose bravery is forever proclaimed on the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington D.C. My great grandfather did not die in the Civil War but he was charged with burying the dead after the Battle of Shiloh and official documents tell of the horrific nature of his duties.

Today our armies are staffed with volunteers many of whom continue to die in faraway places for a cause that we all too often don’t really understand. These young men and women are our first line of defense in an uncertain and often frightening world. Somehow they find the courage to carry out missions that most of us would be too frightened to do. When they die their families and friends suffer great loss. Many times those of us busy with our own lives are all too unaware of the great sacrifices that they have made.

War is hell and always has been. It would be so wonderful if we humans somehow managed to resolve our differences in peaceful diplomatic ways. For whatever reason, even our best efforts to avoid conflict are challenged again and again. We may want to isolate ourselves from the necessity to spill blood but history has shown us that we are sometimes given no other choice than to defend ourselves and lose our human treasure in the process.

I used to naively believe that one day mankind would evolve to a point at which the killing would forever stop. A lifetime of observing human nature has convinced me that there will always be some form of evil in the world and that sometimes we have to cut off the head of the serpent to save the innocent. Thank God for those with the courage and the willingness to do what must be done, even understanding that their efforts may result in death.

We must never forget the brave souls who gave their lives so that we might retain our freedoms. We may not know their names or be related to them in any significant way but we have benefited from their acts of courage nonetheless. There is no greater love than a man or woman laying down his/her life for another. It is incumbent on us to spend some time today reflecting on such sacrifices.

If you have children don’t fail to talk with them about why we have this holiday. Far too many of our youth are sadly ignorant of the real reason for our celebrations. It is up to us to teach them to remember and honor those who gave so much in the long arc of history. Simple gestures can be powerful reminders. Our children understand symbols and they like to hear stories.

My son-in-law and my grandchildren awoke early this morning to place American flags throughout their neighborhood. It is a ritual that they have repeated for many years now. I am proud of them for doing this in memory of our fallen heroes. It displays a special reverence that we as a nation are sometimes in jeopardy of losing. We must not equate respect for the dead with unbridled nationalism. It is the duty of present and future generations to never forget the true cost of war. Every life that is lost represents dreams that will never come true. If we honor those who gave everything, they will not have died in vain.

I have read that in our nation’s capitol the flag is raised on this day in the early morning and then lowered to half staff to remember all of the soldiers who have died for this country. At noon the flag is raised again to represent the glory of our nation that has resulted from their courageous deeds. I encourage you to both remember and celebrate. Go forth and enjoy the fruits of the sacrifices made for all of us.