Whatever He Says

We met for supper before going to a presentation by motivational speaker  Lesley Andrew . She spoke   at the high school of  two  of  our granddaughters and it turned out to be such an amazing evening that I wished that the school had been packed. The tickets had only been $5 after all--a great bargain! Those of us who were there--a small intimate group, left inspired to the hilt by this amazing woman who has turned her challenges into beauty and art. She uses her story to show that no matter the package or family you are born with, or the pain that unfolds in your life, you always have a choice of what to do with them. Through her choices, determination and persistence she has reached incredible heights as a vocal and visual artist, and proven that one goal at a time you can beat the odds and be a success in the best sense of the word--being the best you that you can be. This was such an amazing message for young people to hear, and I am sure that everyone th...

At 20 mi nutes to 7, a cheery voice called from the hallway below, "Hello!"  I looked down over the banister, and shouted a welcome in the direction of the woman with short auburn hair and vibrant blue eyes; my friend Carolyn . "You're probably thinking I'm early, but I'm not staying," she said, her voice husky with congestion, and coughs punctuating her words. "I'm sick and I don't want to spread it to everyone else, but I just had to drop off your copy of my book!" The book, Pine Warbler , is Carolyn's third, and one of the endorsements of her writing, at the beginning of the book, is mine. Exciting! I followed Carolyn out to her car to pick up another copy of the book from her trunk. A September heatwave has enveloped Ontario and late in the day, the  air  outside was still hot. Against her protests about not wanting to spread whatever she was fighting off, I hugged her goodbye, and went back inside as she drove off, ju...

Tomorrow evening a flock of writing friends will descend on our house and share their individual perspectives on our assignment for September--"School Days." I'm looking forward to it. Some will be funny. Some will be deep. All will be good! I've thought hard, but haven't come up with anything exciting about my own school days.  I've written about the teachers etched in my memory before. They are forever frozen in time for me, just as they looked in the 1950's and 60's. But I think I'll leave them resting in peace and undisturbed for now. :) I love the little book by Robert Fulgham,  All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten,  but I'm still learning, all the time, and my best lessons don't involve holding hands or even milk and cookies.  I guess it's all in how you view "education."  I continue to learn from books, from other people and from my mistakes (I hate making them, beat myself up when I do, but take co...

By Belinda You could feel it all week--that intensity of emotion--the back to school frisson. Brenda works part-time at a private school for boys and she was busy with extra shifts in the school store as a tide of boys in red uniforms flowed into the school. It was fascinating to hear about the differences that were evident as new and old boys arrived from all over the world and families parted from them to go home again. Those from Korea came with whole families, including grandparents and aunts and uncles. Paradoxically they were very matter of fact as they parted. It seemed as if goodbye was no big deal. Some parents from Mexico, were giving up their sons for just one year in order for them to learn English. It was obvious that it was a huge sacrifice to leave them behind and there were rivers of tears as they said their goodbyes and peeled themselves apart. The most emotional were the mothers from eastern Europe. It was as if they were wrenching out their hearts to let go of their ...