Lord, give me strength, Part 2

As she glanced over it, I could see the compassion flowing up, filling her face.  “Who gave you this?”

 I answered that the P.E. teacher had.

“Come with me to the office,” she briskly commanded. Turning to the boy and saying thank you, she started to the office, beckoning to me to follow.

Having no choice, I slowly followed her, hoping that I would be given strength by God. As soon as we got there, she  motioned me to sit down on a couch in the reception room. Pulling up a chair, and ignoring the pitying glances we were getting, she asked me to tell her what had happened.

Trying to stop my sobs,  and failing miserably, I started to pour out my story. She listened then excused herself for a moment after I had finished, went over to the secretary, and said that she wanted her to dial up the teacher's phone and also to not allow him to make students who are injured run his errands for him in the future.

I saw her taking the phone, listening for a few seconds. Evidently, he had picked it up, and I soon heard her voice saying, “ Anna is here in the office, she will not be coming up to PE.”

She stood listening for a few more moments, then hung up.  Walking over to me, she sat down next to me again, and told me that it was all settled, but that I must have misunderstood; He had informed her that He had not expected me to come back up.

Realizing what she had said, I sat there quietly for a moment, stunned. Gathering all my thoughts, I calmly said, “Miss, I know that I was supposed to go back up there. He told me clearly, that I was to go down, collect the papers, go back up, and fill out a form. I saw the form before I came down, it was requiring me to write paragraphs and fill out a questions about the lesson.”

I saw her face slowly comprehend what I had told her. Just then the head mistress, came in. Trying to wipe away my tears, I made an effort to compose mysel… I failed miserably. Immediately, as she sat down next to me, I was bawling again. She looked over at the one who had been helping me, her eyes asking the question that I had heard so many times before that day.

“Please explain.  I can’t, “I requested.

Shebegan the long story, ending with the ominous words,” He gave her the observation form.”

The head mistress began to speak, explaining that this was not the first time, but that she would take care of it, etc. etc.

I felt bad for her, it must have been  a tough position... she was the headmistress, and therefore, it would have been wrong to criticize a teacher, even if it was for a good reason. She tried to be as neutral as possible, explaining that he was only doing it to prevent troublemakers from gaming the system. But, at the same time, she understood that I would not have done it for that purpose. She also informed me that it was good for me to have come to her and told her...

At this, I looked pleadingly at the right-hand woman and tried to ensure that I would be considered a snitch by asking her to tell the headmistressthat she had found me—I had not sought her out. I did not want my pe teacher to get into trouble to get into trouble. She reassured me that that would not be the case, and that she knew that I did not want to cause any problems with him. She then told me that I could stay there for the rest of the period and try to calm down.

As soon as the bell rang for the release from school, I rushed off to get my bag and climbed aboard the bus so that I would not meet any other classmates with my tear-streaked face. Knowing that crying on the bus would evoke questions, I wisely abstained from shedding any tears and waited until I returned home to freely cry to my heart’s content. When I arrived, I learned that my mom had visited the local playground with Grace.

Calling her to ask her when she would be back, I implored her to hurry up, as I had something to share with her. Then, going into my mom’s bedroom, I lay down on the bed and cried. After having shed all the tears that I thought possible, and hearing a knock, I went to answer the door, which turned out to be my mom. Going into the kitchen to start my lunch for the next day, I started putting together ingredients while my mom finished doing a few things. Coming into the kitchen soon, my mom, as is the customary habit with her, asked how my day was. I replied that it was probably the worst day. She immediately asked why.

To be continued…

Lord, Give Me Strength! (Part 1)

Well, it all started when I sprained my knee and ankle........

I took motor cross lessons last Saturday and fell, spraining my knee and ankle. By Tuesday it wasn't hurting at all, even though I still had to wear crutches to school. Unfortunately, though, I had P.E. that day and my P.E. teacher is not exactly a nice man.

I asked my parents to write a note excusing me from all exercise involving my leg..... my dad argued that it wasn't necessary as one could tell that it was swollen and sprained just by looking at it and the crutches I was carrying in my hands. However, I wanted to be on the safe side and convinced my mom to write it just in case.

Feeling certain that I would be sent to the library to read a book while my classmates completed their lesson, I hobbled up the hill that led to the teache's office. Following my classmates slowly, I reached his office and went in to find him cleaning a chair. I swung over to face him and apologized, saying that I would be unable to participate in the P.E. He asked me why and I answered that I had sprained my knee and ankle while motorcrossing. Without glancing up, he asked if I had a note.... I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to him.....

Stomping over to his desk, he skimmed over the note and looked  up at me for the first time, remarking that my parents were incompetent for allowing me to go to school instead of staying at home where I could elevate it. I could feel resentment rising inside of me, but I kept it in with an effort. He started shuffling through papers on his desk explaining that there was one particular article about sprains and strains that he wanted me to take home to my parents.

However, he soon realized that he had already given out all of the pamphlets on the topic. He turned towards his computer and started searching through different files stored on the desktop.  Arriving at the sought for file, he clicked on it and moved the curser to the button marked print; He clicked it four times.

Next he turned towards another pile of papers on his desk. Picking up the foremost one, he gave it to me along with a clipboard that was taken off of the wall. I glanced over it, trying to stop my tears from welling out- the words on the paper composed a series of essay questions about why I wasn't taking P.E.  Other questions required me to observe and compose about four paragraphs in total about what I observed my classmates doing during the lesson. I could scarcely keep from sobbing.

He soon made it clear to me that I was going to be required to fill out the form, but before that, I was supposed to go (on my crutches) down to the office and collect the papers from the secretary as he did not have a printer in his office. He informed me that I would have plenty of time to go and come back as it would take ten minutes to go through attendance and explain the task that would be set before them for the day. I could not believe my ears! Ten minutes! was he crazy? did he not realize that I was hobbling on crutches?

Determined not to cry or rebel, I set out down those steep steps, praying for guidance all the while; I tried in vain to suppress my tears! Seeing that there were some boys playing basketball on the hardcourt in their free time, I quickly dried my tears since I knew that they would probably see and ask me questions that I was not prepared to answer.

Finally reaching the office, I asked the secretary for the copies, she handed them to me with a comment about how cruel He was to make me come down for them with crutches. She also handed me a newsletter that I had not received yet. I quickly realized how hard it would be to carry the papers, let alone the newsletter that had an unbendable cover, all the way up to Hooke's office. Figuring that He would not mind me at least spending 1 min. to put the newsletter into my bag, I took a slight detour. Shedding a few tears in front of a class room, I was spotted by some younger students and a teacher, the teacher came out and asked if I was crying, but, I , not wanting to start sobbing, quickly shook my head.

 Contemplating telling my homeroom teacher and asking him to talk to my teacher, I quickly out-ruled that  idea as telling tales and continued on my way up to Him. Passing a high wall that was not very visible to people, I suddenly lost it. Then and there, I started sobbing. My body was literally heaving! (Now I know what it means when a heroine in a book startes heaving with sobs:) Trying to continue walking, I looked up and saw in front of me a classmate of my brothers. It was too late, I tried to turn back, but he had already seen me.

Immediately spotting the marks on my face which I was trying so hard to hide, He asked me what had happened. I pulled out the papers on sprains from my pocket and handed them to him with one word; " PE."
 Glancing at the paper I saw the instant realization coming into his eyes. He looked at me and said," I understand, and I am sorry. This happens all the time, it has happened to all of us! The good thing is; He is leaving after this term."
I still was sobbing, "You don't understand, it's not just that, he called my parents stupid for not having me stay at home..." I could see the compassion in his face, so I continued, " I am not sure if I should tell my form tutor." I explained. "I just don't want to be a 'snitch'."

Just then, as he was about to say something, the head master's right hand man/woman came up and asked me what the matter was. I looked at the boy, then at her. Without a word I switched the pamphlet from his hands to her's.

                                 To Be Continued

A Tribute to All Mothers

I just wanted to wish all of you a happy Mother's Day! If any of you are at any time suffering doubts about whether your job as a mother is worth it, don't! You have the most important job of all time: the job of raising up children to glorify God!

I will always thank my mom for spending the time that she has, teaching and encouraging us. Many days have been hard, many days have been painful, but through it all she, with God's help, survived. I will remember it throughout my life!

My only hope is that someday, I will be as much of a blessing to her as she has been to me. I know that children all over the world feel that way.

So if at some time, all you mothers feel discouraged, weary, or angry, just remember that one day you will be heaped with blessings for what you are doing as you raise your child.

 "Do not grow weary from doing good, for in due  season you shall reap, if you do not lose heart."



                          HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

No internet, apologies

Hi, my apologies for not writing in my blog very often. Our internet is very limited at the moment so I will keep this short and brief. I will try to write as soon as possible. Hopefully we will get better internet soon. Love to all and I miss you!