Sometimes the lessons come from someone gently leading you down a new path. At times, the knowledge comes from a word of warning, “Don’t touch the stove. It will burn you.” You may learn by listening, or you may need the reinforcement of experience. My lesson this week came from an application of Murphy’s Law: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong. At the end of January, I was made aware of the opportunity to volunteer to read virtually to a class of children as part of a Houston Literacy program for Houston Reads Day: 400 volunteers reading to 10,000 school children. A desire of my heart. Yes! Step 1 – be approved and vetted by HISD. I knew from previous knowledge this wouldn’t be easy. I was sucked into a loop that kept throwing me back to the begin again stage. A deadline loomed. In desperation I called the literacy office. Emma, (remember that name) actually answered an e-mail, called me at home, and told me which keys to push. I was able to read the handbook, take the test, print the certificate, and be approved for service. Whew!
In the next several weeks, Emma sent me encouraging notes, and all was on course. Then the week of deep winter descended. Schools closed and a grinding halt to various activities spread over Houston. Two days before R-Day, notice came that all instructions would be in next e-mail. Emma, surely realizing she was dealing with a needy soul, wrote at 4:30 the next day to ask if I understood what to do. Another panic mode. No instructions had come my way. They arrived in my folder at 10:30 p.m. At 5:00 a.m., coffee in hand, I called on the guardian angel of technically challenged and followed very specific instructions. Everything seemed to work. I even put on lipstick and was ready for my 8:05 welcome to a classroom slot. The short story is after 45 minutes of three-way texts about a blank screen that said the host will invite you to join, I packed up my marbles and went home.
I was not abandoned. Very faithful Emma found me a 1:50 slot. That principal was bonded to the program and would be in the classroom and make it happen. Short story: my video never connected as a small picture in the corner, and I couldn’t see the children. The pages of the book did appear on a screen, though the program was very slow on turning pages. I gave my best shot and somehow had vibes the children were following the story. At the end, a round of applause and a shouted, “Thank you,” were warmly received however they were instigated.
The obvious lesson was that plans can go awry. In the background was another lesson. This all happened on Dr Seuss’s birthday along with a news article that his books are now being banned. Can’t children learn from The Cat in the Hat that messes can be made and can be cleaned up? Do observant imaginative eyes need to be directed by a story other than And To Think I Saw That on Mulberry Street. Should inclusiveness be taught through didactic language instead of the gentle flow of The Sneetches. Each book read, each new task attempted, and each day lived has a lesson. We need to always have one request.
Teach me, Lord. Direct my understanding Psalm 119: 33,34
Let Me Tell Ya 