Sweet Learnings
Sweet Learnings comes from a story told by Linda Christensen (2000) about a rabbi who lets students taste the sweetness of honey fater they learn each letter of the Jewish alphabet (pp. 23-26).
Christensen, L. (2000). Sweet Learnings in Reading, Writing, and Rising Up. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann.
My parents taught us to dream beyond Lambert Street. I learned expressions, like: what the samhill is wrong with you; believe nothing you hear and only half of what you see; don’t pee on my leg and tell me that it’s raining; Rob Peter to pay Paul. Mother taught me how to enjoy doing homework and to always read beyond the assigned page numbers. She enjoyed my homework more than I did.
We would go on drives to the airport to see planes take off and land; to the countryside outside of the city limits; on surprise rides to amusement parks. My brother-in-law Bill taught my mother & I how to drive a car. My father taught me how to fish, make spaghetti & meatballs, Italian sausage by hand; how to spell the word, friend, ending in end and street names to navigate in the city. This story is about what I learned from my mother this one day.
Feathers: A Heavy Lesson
Although I was very anxious to attend school initially, once I was there, it became a life of constant anxiety. School was a fearful place. When I heard the screams from the first floor seventh and eight grade classes where Sr. Margaret St. Frances ruled, I knew what I could look forward to in my later elementary school experience-greater fear!
It was Springtime. I enjoyed my walks to school for it was a time to think about other things before I had to start worrying about school. I was a second grader in St. Benedict Catholic School at the time.
During the morning we had religion, one of my favorite topics beside handwriting. Sister, whose name I cannot remember, was trying to relate a religious concept, of which I can't remember either. But she gave this analogy: Imagine it was a windy day and you had a feather pillow and you opened the pillow and let go of all the feathers. Could you retrieve all those feathers?
"Sister!" "Sister!" My hand shot immediately up in the air. "Sister!" Sister!" I did not consider myself one of the smartest in the class, however, I KNEW the answer to this question beyond a doubt. "Sister!" "Sister!" Naturally, when you know the answer you're not called on. Andrea Glackin was called on and she answered, "No, you couldn't." My hand was still up as I thought, "Mmm, Andrea missed such a simple question." It was only when Sister said, "You're right, you couldn't get all those feathers back" that my arm slowly descended in disbelief. I couldn't believe it. What did people believe? Where was their faith, I wondered?
All morning long I was in shock that everyone else in my class, including Sister, believed that you couldn't get those feathers back. I was despondent. At lunchtime, I walked home dispirited and wasn't even hungry for my burned bread tunafish sandwich. I had acquired a taste for charred bread and the flavor was enhanced knowing it was so nutritious, so my mother told my siblings and I. Cooking was only one of my mother's many chores. My mother could fix, repair, remodel just about anything in our home--washing machines, dryers, vacuum cleaners, toasters, irons, radios, watches, even our toys. She did the carpentry, the plumbing, the reupholstering. We would eat our burned food, more appreciative of her other fine skills and talents.
Not very interested in my nutritious sandwich, I asked my mother the same question that Sister posed to us earlier that morning. I will always remember how happy I felt when she said, after some 'wait time', "You could collect all those feathers but it would be very difficult." YES, I knew she were a believer! She lifted my spirits right out of the gutter. I knew that if one just had faith even the impossible was possible!
I have always respected my mother for that answer and the returned hope I felt of being able to do anything. Over the years I have realized the importance of deciding which pillowcase of feathers is worthy of such enthusiastic time, effort and determination. Some feathers are better left blowing in the wind. And some have no business being let out of the pillowcase in the first place. This story, which serves as my mother's parable, is a constant reminder that there is nothing that can't be done with love, determination, belief, faith and trust in yourself.