Her Day of Days

Back in 2001, the headmaster of a growing classical Christian school bravely hired me to be a lower school teacher there as they added a second section to each grade. At first, I was to be a third grade teacher. Among other hiring, however, things were shuffled around and it was determined that I would be a fourth grade teacher alongside a master teacher who had been at Trinity School since its inception, Mrs. Rita Davis.

And my world has never been the same.

Rita took me under her wing that first year of teaching and I found a kindred spirit like no other. She mentored and nurtured and advised {when asked} and prayed and laughed and loved. Most importantly, she let me be the teacher God has created me to be. In fact, she encouraged that teacher in me. She let me make my own mistakes, she listened and agreed to my ideas, she challenged me to step up and lead in our grade level endeavors. I can still remember the immense joy and responsibility I felt when she turned over to me the coaching of our classes’ annual recitation of the “I Have a Dream” speech. She believed in me and trusted me. In the nine years that I have had the privilege of knowing Rita, I have always known that feeling around her.

{Nature Hike, 2006}

{Prepping for our class trip to Camp Don Lee, 2006. This is soooo us- me with a clipboard organizing everyone and Rita’s exuberant joy making it that much more fun. Throw in some kicky flip flops and you have the dynamic duo.}

Jane Austen said, “My idea of good company is the company of clever, well-informed people who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company.” And, oh! Is Rita ever good company. Anyone who is privileged enough to spend five minutes in her presence knows that. I have always marveled at her wit, her kindness, her ability to set people at ease with her thoughtful questions that convey an authentic desire to know more about you. She is the person you want to sit next to at a dinner party because the conversation will be funny and encouraging and interesting.

Both Rita and her husband, Dave, excel at being good company and I know this firsthand since they took me in the summer before Jason and I were married. Night after night of delicious dinners {have I mentioned that Rita can cook?}, lazy days filled with conversation ranging from the inane to the sacred, long walks, early morning workouts…and even still, I can go back and know that the back bedroom is waiting for me. My summer family- me, Rita, Dave and their nephew, Greg- became part of my actual family. Because with Rita, there is this ease as she and I flit between the many roles in our relationship: colleagues, mentor/mentee, mother/daughter, sisters {twins separated by twenty years, don’t you know?} and just plain friends.

{Reading Scripture at our wedding, 2006}

This picture captures one of my favorite things that Rita does so well. Glasses perched on nose, book in hand, reading aloud. These days, when I go back to visit Trinity and make the first stop in Rita’s classroom, I always hope that she will be reading aloud so that I can sit and listen. A fellow drama queen when it comes to books, her voice and tone create the world of whatever she is reading right in front of you. It is captivating, to say the least, and her students will vouch for that.

But it’s not just how she reads, it’s what she is reading. At Trinity, one of the first things the fourth graders memorize is Philippians 4:6-8,

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Rita taught me that we have them memorize this first because it sets the standard for what they will learn for the rest of the school year, both in the curriculum and out. She has put this into practice in her own life and the wisdom shines through beautifully.

Happy birthday, sweet friend. I love you!

Joy Has Dawned…

Joy has dawned upon the world,
Promised from creation—
God’s salvation now unfurled,
Hope for ev’ry nation.
Not with fanfares from above,
Not with scenes of glory,
But a humble gift of love—
Jesus born of Mary.

Sounds of wonder fill the sky
With the songs of angels
As the mighty Prince of Life
Shelters in a stable.
Hands that set each star in place,
Shaped the earth in darkness,
Cling now to a mother’s breast,
Vuln’rable and helpless.

Shepherds bow before the Lamb,
Gazing at the glory;
Gifts of men from distant lands
Prophesy the story.
Gold—a King is born today,
Incense—God is with us,
Myrrh—His death will make a way,
And by His blood He’ll win us.

Son of Adam, Son of heaven,
Given as a ransom;
Reconciling God and man,
Christ, our mighty champion!
What a Savior! What a Friend!
What a glorious myst’ry!
Once a babe in Bethlehem,
Now the Lord of hist’ry.

And for all these years, I though Wassail was some sort of cider.

For the last sixty-three years, the Cruise sisters, their husbands and children have gathered together to celebrate Christmas. Every Christmas morning, each sister and her family would celebrate at their own house and then travel to Durham to Grandmother and Grandaddy’s house for an evening family gathering. About a week or so prior to this, we would all gather at Melba and Randall’s house to Christmas carol around their neighborhood, eat a ridiculously delicious southern meal and then engage in a rousing round of Yankee Swap {or White Elephant or Dirty Santa or whatever else you may prefer to call it}.

Every year this would happen like clockwork. I have precious and laughter-filled memories of caroling through the cold streets of Roxboro, finally at 16 being old enough to participate in my rooky round of Yankee Swap and anxiously anticipating seeing all my cousins so that I could boss them around in Grandmother and Grandaddy’s basement.

But then all of us grandkids started getting married and having kids of our own and in-laws to go see at Christmas. The two separate gatherings became harder and harder to coordinate so we simply combined both events into one and held it the weekend before Christmas. Voila! Cruise Family Christmas lives on. And this year has been no different…

C’mon everybody! Let’s go caroling!

The Hamiltons, our fine hosts, decked out even the car.

A flatbed trailer to carry us this year! We’re caroling in style…

Caroling from dusk into night…

 

Each year, the hosts {this year, Aunt Betsy and Uncle Todd} alert their neighbors to the fact that we’ll be coming around and caroling for them. This year, the weather being what it was {freaking freezing!} there wasn’t the…shall we say…generous spirit of caroling for all the neighbors no matter how long it took. After over an hour of riding around and singing in the just above freezing temps, several of our group were ready to head back home. But as we passed one brightly lit home, we saw several young children throw their front door open and run onto the porch. Clearly, they had been anticipating our arrival.

But it was cold.

And we were freezing.

And I was really having a hard time feeling my fingers or toes which was invoking repeated thoughts of one of the greatest Christmas movie lines, “Clark, Audrey’s frozen from the waist down.” {If you don’t know to what movie I am referring, just don’t tell me. But get thee to Blockbuster and rent “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, STAT.}

Still, when small children are standing in their front yard watching you drive away, it tugs on your frozen heartstrings. Well, it does for some of us. For one aunt who shall remain nameless it did not hold the same power it did for the rest of us. “I don’t care if it’s the three wise men, I am not signing for anyone else tonight!”

Ahem.

We made a pit stop back at Betsy and Todd’s house to drop off the weary and cold, then headed back for one last caroling visit. And it’s a good thing we did, because the mom had already loaded her kids in the car and was headed towards us so we could sing for them. I’m not saying that we were all that brilliant sounding but, clearly, if you promise caroling you better deliver the goods.

Happy wassailing, my friends!

And so it begins

Amidst slush and sleet and snow and ice…

which nearly caused the whole thing to be called off.

After three serious runners…

took a joyful three mile run.

It’s time for The Cruise Family Christmas! Stay tuned for more….

I promise this time I really will post.

Anticipation

Lord Jesus, Master of both the light and the darkness, send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas. We who have so much to do seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day. We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us. We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom. We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence. We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light. To you we say, “Come Lord Jesus!” Amen.

- A prayer of writer, Henri J.M. Nouwen

{I’m so excited about Christmas, I can hardly stand it! Choosing to wait and delay the gratification, when I pushed play on the Christmas playlist on my iPod last Friday….it was so worth it. Regular posts to come soon. My Thanksgiving was amazing and I have the pictures to prove it!}

Saints & Strangers

This past Friday was “Pilgrim and Native American Indian Day” at my school and the majority of the students and teachers dressed up to celebrate Thanksgiving with their classes before the start of our break.  Our third graders just finished studying the Jamestown and Plymouth colonies and we culminated the end of the unit with a reenactment of the first Thanksgiving feast. The kids came in their costumes {promised extra credit in Social Studies class was an added incentive} and we had such a fun day!

To see more pictures {with captions} head right over here!

I’m heading to North Carolina to celebrate my week long Thanksgiving break with my middle school/high school/college friends in Winston-Salem and then with my mom and sister down in Hickory. Allie and I are even running an 8k race on Thanksgiving morning in Charlotte to assuage any guilt that may follow from our decadent dinner.

I highly recommend that strategy.

I’ll try and post from the road but in the meantime, what is the moment in the last year for which you are most thankful?

Back when cursive was cool and so was dotting your i’s with hearts.

When I was eight years old, my Aunt Joann drew my name for our family Christmas gift exchange. Her choice of gift was, to this day, one of the most perfect gifts I have ever been given. Knowing my deep and abiding love for Nancy Drew mysteries, I opened the beautifully wrapped package from her only to discover eight brand new hardback Nancy Drews that I had yet to read.

My response?

I screamed for a solid thirty seconds.

And don’t lie, you totally wish you had those glasses when you were growing up.

I have held on to my Nancy Drew mysteries through the years and gleefully placed them on the library shelves of my classrooms. Several of my girls have gotten a hold of them this year and are loving them as much as I did. I have one little girl that comes up to my desk every time she finishes a chapter to tell me what Nancy is up to and who she suspects is the villain.

I can’t tell you how happy this makes me.

Yesterday during a break, one of the girls brought over one of my Nancy Drew books, held open the cover and looked up at me with a smug little grin on her face. There, on the front panel of the book in my eight year old handwriting, “I {heart} Jeremy Tilley.”

Ah, yes. Jeremy Tilley. The heartthrob that never gave me the time of day but whose deep brown eyes and fluffy brown hair captured my little third grade heart. “Yes,” I told the students who were starting to gather around with much giggling, “I had a huge crush on Jeremy Tilley.”

I wish you could have seen how big their eyes were. I don’t know what rocked their world more- thinking of me as an eight year old or the idea of their teacher having a crush on a boy. Ew, a boy!

I then proceeded to tell them one of my childhood embarrassing moments in the hopes that someday, when it inevitably happens to them, they wouldn’t feel so bad. One morning, during our “big group” classroom meeting time, I sat on the floor directly in front of Jeremy and his friends. I was painfully aware of his presence behind me and overwhelmed by his wonderfulness. I guess the stress of it all must have gotten to me because….I….ahem…passed gas. And not quietly. Jeremy and his friends, as most mature eight year olds would, began laughing and waving their hands in front of their face. They then scooted back creating an arc of space behind me.

I’ve only recently gotten over the trauma. It’s amazing what a good therapist can do.

My students, of course, thought this was hysterical and a solid five minutes of laughter ensued. My humiliation shared to lessen theirs? I’m pretty sure that they don’t teach that kind of mentoring strategy in grad school.