Happy Father’s Day from the Handy Helpers

IMG_0457Last Sunday was Father’s Day, and I hope all the dads out there had a fun, relaxing day. The Handy Helpers wouldn’t miss this opportunity to tell their dads how much they love them. Here’s some of what happened in Bluesky on Father’s Day.

Melissa was on her way to the kitchen with plans to make breakfast for her family. It would be a Father’s Day surprise. Last year her dad had been stationed in Afghanistan. They wished him happy Father’s Day on Skype. He told them he had limp bacon and runny eggs for breakfast. Melissa promised that when he was home, she would make him some of her famous pancakes.

As Melissa passed her parents’ bedroom, she noticed her sister Trisha crouched in front of the door, holding a present between her knees. “Come on and help me with breakfast she whispered. Let Mom and Dad sleep as long as they can.”

In the kitchen, Melissa poured the ingredients for buttermilk pancakes into a bowl and handed Trisha a spoon. “Mix this up while I cook the bacon. I’m going to make it nice and crisp, just the way Dad likes it.”

As she watched the bacon sizzling in the pan, Melissa thought about how much their lives had changed in the two weeks since her dad had been home. At first, she was really excited about doing lots of things with him. But sometimes her dad was in a bad mood and just wanted to lay in the hammock in the back yard. Other times, he wanted to know everything she was doing. He expected her to ask permission to do things her mom always let her do—things like talking on the phone or fixing a snack. “He’s just trying to figure out what his role is in our family,” her mother had told her. “Give it time, and everything will work itself out.”

Melissa was trying to be patient, but she wondered if things were ever going to get better. “Good morning,” she said as her dad came into the kitchen. “Happy Father’s Day.”

“It sure smells good in here,” Cody looked at both his daughters working together. “Looks like you two have everything under control.”

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy,” Trisha ran to him and put her arms around his waist. Cody bent down and kissed the top of his young daughter’s head.

“It’s sure nice to be spending Father’s Day at home with my girls.”

“Breakfast’s almost ready,” Melissa announced. “Better get Mom and Grandma,” she said to Trisha.

“Change your clothes,” Emma told her daughters as soon as they arrived home from church. “We’re supposed to be at the Smith’s at one o’clock.”

“You’re not taking that cake!” Laura exclaimed as she looked at the food her mother packed to take to the Smith’s. There in the back of the Suburban among her mother’s superbly delicious red beans and rice, pecan pie, and pralines sat Laura’s not-so-nice-looking Father’s Day cake.

“Of course we’re taking it,” Emma said matter-of-factly. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“It just doesn’t look as good as I was hoping.”

“I’m sure it will taste great. That’s all that matters.”

Laura squeezed into the back seat along with the folding chairs her father had placed there. Her three sisters were already seat-belted into the middle seats, leaving her no choice. It was only a ten minute ride to the Smith’s, but Laura dreaded every minute.

As the Thomas’s pulled up in front of the Smith house, they saw Spike sitting in the front porch glider. He had his head down and was scraping his feet across the cement. He looked up as they pulled into the driveway.

“Hi,” Spike waved in their direction.

“How about giving us a hand?” Bill yelled  as he opened the clam doors on the back of the Suburban.

“Sure.” Spike came down the steps two at a time.

“Here,” Emma handed him Laura’s Father’s Day cake.

“Who made this?” Spike asked looking curiously at the cake in his hands.

“Laura did,” Emma told him.

Spike carried the cake into the house. Todd and Jennifer came out the front door to help Bill with the chairs he was taking out of the Suburban.

“Who murdered your cake?” Spike asked Laura as he set the cake on the dessert table.

“Nobody,” Laura said, surprised. “It’s supposed to be a shirt and tie.”

“Yeah,” Spike commented, “with a bullet hole in it!”

“I had a little trouble with the frosting, that’s all.”

“That’s a relief!” Spike sighed loudly.

“What do you mean?,” Laura asked.

“That’s frosting, not blood.” Spike pointed to the red stains on the cake.

From The Handy Helpers: Red, White, and . . . Bloopers!

There’s more than one way to explore a canyon.

DSCN0183Although I haven’t given up on my plans to camp at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, my failed attempt left me searching for alternative ways to enjoy the canyon. I discovered a fantastic opportunity to explore–not only the Grand Canyon, but Glen Canyon and Antelope Canyon–by air, land and water. It was an excursion offered by Grand Canyon Scenic Airlines and it is worthy of a spot on everyone’s bucket list.

Because our twelve-hour day would begin at  5:45 a.m., we decided DSCN0159to drive to the canyon the day before and stay at the Thunderbird Lodge–very nice accommodations on the canyon rim. We arrived at the canyon in time to enjoy a picnic lunch. After checking in to our room, we decided to use the shuttle to take the DSCN0169West Rim Drive. We usually avoid this option on day trips because it is so time-consuming, but since we had a free afternoon we gave it a try. It was a cloudy day, but no rain fell on us as we traveled from viewpoint to viewpoint, each more spectacular than the one before.

Up early the next morning, we had a short drive back to the airport in Tusayan. On our way, we were distracted by a group of elk–including a small calf, and were almost late for our flight. After a box DSCN0185breakfast, provided by the airlines, we boarded our ten-passenger plane and began the flight over the eastern Grand Canyon and into Glen Canyon.  Along the way, we enjoyed views of the Colorado River, and could see the rapids in many places. We flew DSCN0189over the famous Horseshoe Bend–a 260 degree bend in the Colorado River.

After flying over Glen Canyon Dam, our flight continued over beautiful Lake Powell, finally landing in Page, Arizona.  DSCN0201

The next leg of our journey was by land. We were loaded into the back of trucks that had been fitted with bench seats and driven ten miles into the desert. We arrived at a place that seemed pretty desolate. There we not a clue to the spectacular wonders we were about to see in Antelope Canyon.

DSCN0217Antelope Canyon is a slot canyon located on Navajo land. During the monsoon season,  water flows through the canyon and whirls around at up to thirty miles per hour. The result is a canyon one quarter mile deep filled with rock formations that can only be seen to be fully appreciated.  We were fortunate to have a guide who knew all the tricks to get the really superior pictures.DSCN0234DSCN0231

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Returning to the airport, we boarded a bus that took us to the base of Glen Canyon Dam.  There we climbed aboard our pontoon watercraft for a fifteen-mile, still-water float to Lee’s Ferry.DSCN0242

The rock formations along Glen Canyon provided spectacular views. Along the way, we floated through Horseshoe Bend that we had seen and photographed from the air.DSCN0264

Once again we had a very knowledgeable guide who helped us appreciate what we were seeing. He told us that the dark color on the rocks was oxidized manganese  called rock varnish. It takes about a thousand years for that process to take place. Our guide pointed out a place where the rock face had fallen away and some varnish was visible–indicating that the rocks had fallen a thousand years ago. DSCN0261

When we reached Lee’s Ferry, we left the Colorado River and began our three-hour drive back to the South Rim.

On each leg of our excursion, the guide asked where everyone was from. There were travelers from Australia and Brazil. Some people were from Florida, New Jersey,  and Minnesota. But we were the only ones from Arizona. It seemed strange that fellow Arizonans wouldn’t take advantage of such a superior opportunity–especially one in our own back yard.

 

 

 

A Sneak Peek at Book Four

rheddens_order_delivered_jpgI am busy working on the final chapters of book four–Not a Happy Camper. But I decided to offer a little sneak peek.

“Do it again, Gus! Do it again!” Rachel shouted, excitedly.

            Gus looked over the top of his newspaper. He used his tongue to push his bottom dentures out of place until they rested on his lower lip. Rachel giggled and jumped up and down, clapping her hands. Gus popped his teeth back in place and went back to reading the paper.

            “Stop bugging Gus!” Jeremiah scolded, “And pick up that mess!” He was referring to the crayons and coloring book Rachel had abandoned on the carpet in front of the television.

            “Okay, Jeremiah.” Rachel picked up the coloring supplies and placed them on the desk.

            “She’s not bothering me,” Gus said, laying down the paper. “I love to hear her laugh.”

            “She needs to behave properly,” Jeremiah insisted. “She can’t go around annoying people.”

            Daniel was working on a jigsaw puzzle Gus had given him. It was a picture of a farm with a big red barn and lots of animals. Occasionally little squeaking sounds came from Daniel and his head jerked. “Go sweep the front porch,” Jeremiah told him in a harsh tone. “You’ve gotta pull your weight around here.”

            “The dust on the front porch can wait,” Gus smiled at Jeremiah. “Let your brother finish his puzzle.”

            “We don’t expect something for nothing!” Jeremiah said forcefully. “Our parents raised us to pay our own way. As soon as I can get a job, I’m gonna pay you back every cent you spent on us.”

            “I’ve told you, Jeremiah, that you don’t owe me anything. I’m happy to help you kids. You’ve been taking care of Rachel and Daniel on your own and you’ve done your best. There’s no shame in accepting help. Besides, having you around brightens up my life. You’re paying me back just by being here.”

            Before the forest fire, Jeremiah had been living with his brother and sister in a little lean-to he had built in the woods. He fished and trapped to feed them. After Spike discovered their hiding place, he began bringing them food. When the fire changed directions and headed toward their lean-to, Spike and his friends hiked into the forest at night and rescued Daniel and Rachel who were alone because Jeremiah had gone into town.

            The story of the Cole children was a sad one. Three years ago, their mother died of cancer. Their father, Charles Cole, moved the family to Harrison, a small mining town south of Bluesky. He rented a tiny house and they were getting settled in their new home. Charles enrolled the boys in school. Rachel was only four, so he found a neighbor to care for her while he worked in the copper mine. Jeremiah adjusted quickly to the new school, but Daniel struggled. Some of the children teased him, and the teachers complained because he was disruptive. Charles tried to explain that the jerky movements and noises Daniel made were due to a condition called Tourette’s syndrome. There was nothing Daniel could do to control the movements or the sounds. Putting him under stress only made them worse. The teachers seemed sympathetic, but said they had other children to consider. Daniel had to remain quiet or he would be removed from the classroom. Daniel continued to have problems, so when Charles was offered a job as a wrangler on the Morgan ranch, he took it. Mr. Morgan gave them a little cabin to live in. Like the Morgan children, Jeremiah and Daniel were enrolled in an internet school since the nearest town was too far away. When she turned five, Rachel started kindergarten, going with her brothers to the big house every day to work on the computers. School was going well for all of them. It seemed that everything was looking up and then tragedy struck again. While riding the fence line, Charles was thrown from his horse. It was a day later when he was discovered. By that time, it was too late to save him.  

            Mr. Morgan didn’t want to, but he knew he had to let the authorities know about the children. Jeremiah was sure they would be placed in foster homes, and probably separated. That would be bad enough for him and Rachel, but he knew Daniel would never survive it. They had to leave the ranch. His only hope was to hide out with Daniel and Rachel. When he turned eighteen in nine months, he could get a job and raise his brother and sister himself. The night before someone from Child Protective Services was coming to the ranch, Jeremiah packed up his brother and sister and ran away.

The Handy Helpers series is available on amazon

 

Memorial Day in Bluesky

memorial-day-animationCitizens of Bluesky were unfolding chairs and spreading blankets on the lawn at the senior center. A stage had been set up for the Memorial Day celebration. Promptly at ten o’clock, a little man in a World War Two uniform stood alone on the stage, a bugle in his hand. He lifted the bugle to his lips and began to play “Revelry.” Everyone stood up and remained quiet until he finished. As he took his seat on the stage, Walt walked to the microphone and said, “Color guard, present the colors.” With that, young men in uniform came forward carrying the American flag. After the singing of the national anthem, and the opening prayer, everyone was seated.

“I’d like to thank our bugler, Bobby Sims,” Walt said. “And our color guard from the high school ROTC, and Fr. Steve for the invocation. I would also like to thank all of you for coming here today for this special celebration.”

The program continued with speeches from the Mayor and other dignitaries. Then Walt invited family members to come forward and make presentations on behalf of loved ones who had passed away. The Handy Helpers watched as Gus walked up to the front with a picture and the flag he received when his son died in combat in Vietnam. Gus placed the flag and picture among the other memorials on the display table.

At last, Walt asked the Handy Helpers to come forward. They stepped up on the stage in order, forming an American flag. First were Logan and Chris, then Melissa, Next were Laura and Amber, followed by Spike. Beth Anne came last, using her walker. As she made her way down the center isle, the spectators rose to their feet, whistling and applauding. When she reached the front, Logan and Chris stepped down to lift her onto the stage.

“The Handy Helpers are going to lead us in patriotic songs. We’re hoping you will all join in.”

With that, the Handy Helpers began singing “God Bless America.” The citizens of Bluesky proudly joined them. At last, Bobby Sims came forward again to blow “Taps,” on his bugle, and the celebration came to an end.

memorial-day-crosses

My not-so-grand canyon trip

DSCN0147I had been attuned to the weather like a sailor for weeks. The much anticipated morning arrived drizzly and gray. But it was my hope that in true Arizona fashion, the sun would melt away the clouds and leave a cool, clear day for our hike.

Driving to the Canyon, a fine mist covered our windshield. By the time we reached the Backcountry Office, the rain forced us inside to finish getting our gear ready.  It would require two bus trips to get to the trailhead since we had missed the last Backpackers Express.

The rain had stopped by the time we reached the trailhead.   The canyon was filled with clouds which was a rare treat for me. But I couldn’t help feeling sorry for first-time visitors who only had that one day to spend at the canyon. They were going to miss the spectacular views that attract people from around the world.

We had gone down several of the switchbacks at the beginning of DSCN0148the South Kaibab Trail when I noticed that Craig did not have his walking sticks. Our son, Mike, had seen some walking sticks leaning against the restroom at the trailhead. He offered to go back and see if they were still there. In the meantime, the rest of our party pressed on down the trail.

After the switchbacks, the trail became rougher and was at a more severe decline. To make matter worse, large pools of water had collected behind little rock dams all along the trail. Mike caught up with us again–without Craig’s walking sticks.

DSCN0150In spite of the weather and the sporadic showers, I was enjoying the hike, stopping occasionally to take a picture. It was at one of those stops, about one and a half miles down, that I looked back to find Craig flanked by Mike and his wife, Vikki. Craig was walking slowly, stumbling at times, and occasionally getting dangerously close to the edge. It was apparent to everyone in our party as well as perfect strangers hiking near us, that Craig was not capable of  safely finishing the remaining five miles let alone the nearly ten-mile hike that would be necessary to leave the canyon on Monday. There was nothing to do but help him get back to the rim. Mike went part of the way with us, carrying Craig’s pack. Once we reached the switchbacks, he left us and returned to finish the descent.

Craig and I made our way slowly up the switchbacks that had DSCN0149seemed so easy to climb down. Once we reached the rim, we rested for a few minutes and then boarded the first of the two buses for the return trip to our car. On the second bus, I was chatting with some other passengers about our experience. I had just told them that Craig had lost his walking sticks, when I realized I no longer had my sticks either. I had left them on the previous bus. The bus driver used his radio to determine that my sticks were on bus 6. I would have to reconnect with bus 6 in order to get them back.

Reaching our car, we threw our packs into the trunk and walked to the Bright Angel Lodge. There was no need to eat the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I had packed for our lunch. Cold, wet and tired, we were going to enjoy a nice hot meal before going home.  We spent the afternoon retrieving our walking sticks–Craig’s from the Backcountry Office and mine from Bus 6.  While we were waiting for Bus 6 to return to the Visitors Center, it began to snow. In the ten minutes we were away, our car was totally covered with the white stuff. It was necessary to run the defroster for a while before it was safe to drive.  Later, we would pass a snow plow headed for the canyon.

On our drive home in the rain, I contemplated whether we were ready to check in to the Las Fuentes Senior Home. But during the two-hour drive, I concocted a new plan to conquer the canyon. This one is much less ambitious than my original plan. It involves camping at Indian Gardens, which is only 4.5 miles down the Bright Angel Trail. Having some of my gear brought down on a mule is also under consideration. I’m not sure who will go with me–maybe some friends or my grandkids. Sadly, Craig’s canyon hiking days are over.

 

“Washing windows is fun.”

window washingSpike let out a long sigh and surveyed what seemed like an endless row of windows. This job was going to take all morning. Two seven-year-olds , Connor and his friend, Blake, walked across the lawn to the front porch where Spike was wiping the window. Just like Spike, Connor had his hair spiked. And just like Spike, Connor liked to wear shirts with sayings on them. Today he was wearing a T-shirt that said  “ Being Cool is my Job.”

“Whatcha doin’?”  Connor asked. “Did your mom make you wash windows?”

“My mom make me?” Spike gave Connor a shocked look. “My mom  didn’t make me. My mom let me wash the windows. I asked her— in fact, I practically begged her to let me wash windows.”

“Why’d you do that?” Connor asked.

“’Cause washing windows is about the most fun thing you can do on a summer morning. You get to spray water,  and no one will yell at you. Then you get to use these cool window-cleaner bottles, see?

“Can we help you?” Blake asked. “We’re looking for something fun to do.”

“I don’t know,” Spike said  thoughtfully. “I was thinking about keeping all this fun for myself.”

“Please,” Connor begged. “Let us help. I’ll give you half my candy bar.”

“Well . . . maybe,” Spike said casually. “I guess it might be worth half a candy bar. But just you,  okay?”

“What about me?” Blake asked. His dark eyes flashed under his baseball cap. “Can I help too?”

“Well . . . What’ve you got?” Spike questioned.

“I have almost a whole pack of gum,” Blake offered, taking the gum from the pocket of his tan shorts.

“Okay,” Spike said, snatching up the gum, “you  can both help.”

Connor and Blake grabbed the cleaning supplies and started on the next window. Spike took out a piece of gum and popped it in his mouth. Then he stood back, chewing the gum and watching the other two. “There’s a streak right there,” he pointed out to Blake.

Just as the pair finished wiping the window, a girl named Madison came by to see what was going on. After paying Spike a quarter, she joined the other two at the next window. Before long, there were five little kids washing the windows. Spike was feeling pretty pleased with himself. This was the best plan he’d ever devised. The windows were being cleaned by little gnomes, and he was free to do whatever he wanted. Maybe he would take a nap or watch TV.

“Michael David Smith!” His mother’s voice made him jump.

“What’s going on here?”

“I . . . I . . . I thought you were working in the church office?” Michael stammered.

“I just came back to get something. I was expecting to see you washing the windows!”

“They begged me to let them help,” Spike tried to explain. “I didn’t have the heart to tell them no.”

“Washing windows is fun,” Connor defended Spike. “That’s why Spike let us do it. He’s a nice guy.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” Spike said to his mom.

“Neither would I!” Carolyn stormed. “You kids put down the cleaning supplies and go home. Washing the windows is Michael’s job!”

“But I paid him a quarter,” Madison whined.

“You took money from these kids?” Carolyn glared at her son. “You give it all back right now!”

 

From The Handy Helpers: Red, White, and . . . Bloopers!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting Ready to Hike the Canyon (It only took 67 years.)

grand canyon 20I retired three years ago. It seems to me that one of the purposes of retirement is to fill in the blanks of our lives–to do those things we were too busy to do during our careers. That’s why we make that requisite “bucket list.”

Having lived my entire life in Arizona, and being a avid hiker, I am embarrassed to admit that I have never been to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. About twelve years ago, Craig and I hiked down Bright Angel Trail to Plateau Point. It was a grueling nine-hour hike to complete the twelve miles in and out in one day.  Getting down was fairly easy, but the climb back up was exhausting. When we reached the rim I told Craig that we had to go directly to the lodge and eat dinner. I knew that once I got to our room I would not leave it until morning.

Surprisingly,  we are better prepared to hike the Canyon today than we were back then.  Busy with work, we had little time to hike on a regular basis. The only real planning we did for that trip was making reservations at the lodge.  Now that we are retired, we walk a two-mile route near our home almost every day. Once a week, we try to take a longer (4-7 mile hike). To get ready for this trek, we have been going on even  longer hikes up steeper elevations.

My biggest concern is carrying the gear, as we will be camping for two nights at Bright Angel Campground. Some thirty years ago, we went on backpacking trips with our son’s Boy Scout Troop. I recall being loaded down with heavy packs and hiking ten or twelve miles into the wilderness behind a gaggle of chattering scouts. Craig and I usually arrived first at the campsite. The boys took frequent breaks and I liked to keep going–not because I had more stamina, but because stopping meant taking off the pack and I wasn’t sure I would want to put it back on. It was better for me to just keep going.

Last summer Craig and I found a terrific deal on camping  backpacks at Costco. Apparently that was the impetus I needed to plan a hiking trip into the Canyon. The difficulty of getting a permit was an excuse I often used. Oddly enough, I was successful at getting  one on my first try.

One of the advantages of waiting so long to attempt this hike is that the equipment we need is better made, cheaper and more light-weight than it was thirty years ago. Back then, backpacks were huge monstrosities with frames for attaching sleeping bags and tents. Backpacking gear was horribly expensive.  We rented packs from the Hike Shack until we were able to purchase some used ones. Everything from tents to sleeping bags was heavy and bulky.  I suppose we have the space program to thank for the wonderful options we have today.

We were able to completely outfit our trip at Walmart.  There we   DSCN0142 (1)found sleeping bags that weigh less than two pounds and a two-person tent that weighs five. We bought everything we need for about $150. It all fit efficiently into our packs and we’ll be carrying less than thirty pounds on our backs.

With our packs loaded we went to a nearby trail and walked a four-mile circle. Everything went smoothly. Amazingly, I could hardly notice the weight. That’s because my pack is ergonomically designed to put the weight on my hips–not my back and shoulders.  I am feeling optimistic about the undertaking. I’ll let you know in a future post just how it went–complete with pictures, of course.

Hats Off to Spring

flower.hat.13

The senior center was buzzing with activity when the Happy Helpers arrived. The Easter luncheon was one of the big events held at the senior center every year. Mrs. Snow was there, directing the volunteers. When she spotted the girls, she waved them over to where she was.

“We have to get these favors on the tables at each place.” She handed a boxful to each girl. They were tiny straw hats decorated with flowers and birds attached to tiny hat racks with even more flowers and birds.

“These are really cute,” Melissa said. “The ladies at our church made them.”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Snow responded. “They brought them here this morning. Now we need to get them on the tables.”

Amber noticed some of the ladies from the Community Church arranging larger hat decorations in the center of each table. Some other ladies were setting up the buffet tables and placing hat decorations there as well.

“The theme is ‘Hats Off to Spring,’” Mrs. Snow seemed to read Amber’s mind. “Wait until the other seniors start arriving. You’re going to see some crazy hats today.”

The Happy Helpers took their boxes of favors and started putting them out at each place. When they were finished, Mrs. Snow gave them boxes of silverware wrapped in pastel-colored napkins, each tied with a pink, green, or yellow ribbon. Plates had been placed at the beginning of the buffet line, and the glasses were on the beverage table.

“You did a lovely job,” Mrs. Snow said, surveying the room. “I knew my faith in you wasn’t misplaced.”

“Is there anything else we can do?” Laura asked.

“Would you like to be greeters at the door?” Mrs. Snow suggested.

“That sounds like fun,” Melissa said with enthusiasm.

“Yeah,” added Amber. “Then we can check out the crazy hats you mentioned.”

Mrs. Snow positioned the girls at the front door and handed them some programs to give out to each guest. The first couple through the door was Hank and Clarisse Anderson. Clarisse was wearing a fancy red hat with tiny roses and feathers around the brim. When Melissa told her how beautiful it was, Clarisse said that it was called the Titanic.

“It cost about as much as the Titanic,” Hank added. Clarisse shot him a dirty look.

“I see you have your video camera out already,” Amber said. “Are you going to make a movie of the Easter luncheon?”

“I want to catch everyone when they arrive in their hats,” Hank said.

“You have a nice hat,” Laura commented. “It looks like something from the Titanic movie too.” Hank wore a brown felt hat with creases in the front.

“It’s a fedora,” Hank said proudly.

“It’s a Stetson,” Clarisse added. “And it cost as much as mine.”

Gus was the next to arrive. The girls tried not to chuckle when they saw his hat. It was a black visor with black and gray hair sticking out of the top. This was especially funny since the girls knew that Gus had no hair at all underneath the hat.

“Like my hat?” Gus asked.

“It’s really you!” Melissa giggled.

“If there are prizes for the best hats,” Amber added, “you’ll win for sure.”

“Maybe the goofiest,” Melissa whispered to Amber.

Doris Duncan came in using a walker. Her hat was made of straw and was decorated with beautiful fresh flowers. Betty Jenkins wore a gray cowboy hat with a decorative band and black feather.

 

From The Handy Helpers: A Rocky Start

A Whole New World

do not despise

In the summer of 1976, Kirstin was enrolled at the Marc Center preschool in Mesa at the ripe old age of thirteen months. I couldn’t imagine what she would do in school at that age. She wasn’t even walking yet. Kirstin had a speech therapist, physical therapist, and an occupational therapist. She was hardly talking, and I didn’t think she was ready for a job. This seemed like a lot of therapy for such a small child.

Marc Center was more than just a preschool. It provided for the needs of special people of all ages. There was a day program for school-aged children who were considered trainable mentally disabled. In addition, adults received services from Marc Center that included independent living skills and vocational training.

In 1975 Congress passed Public Law 94-142 (Education of All Handicapped Children Act). Today it is known as IDEA (Individuals with Disabilities Education Act). It requires school districts to provide a free, appropriate public education to all children no matter what the disability. Over the years it has been redefined and today carries so much clout that it sends school districts into a tizzy trying to comply. In 1975 the concept was new, but school districts had to figure out a way to include these students in their schools or face losing federal funds. What that meant at Marc Center was that they no longer needed a program for school-age children. Starting in the fall of 1976, all of their students would be going to public school.

Since we came on the scene the year 94-142 went into effect, we never saw what the school program was like at Marc Center. But we did have a great deal of involvement in the adult program. Our experiences at Marc Center opened up a whole new world to us. It was a world of shocking truths and amazing changes. We were there to witness them all.

At that time, the Arizona legislature was holding hearings about what should be done with a residential facility in Coolidge, Arizona. It was home to hundreds of people with mental retardation who had been institutionalized there, some of them since birth. Housed in a clinical setting, most residents had no hope of ever leaving. Families had been encouraged to place their children there and many of those children spent their entire lives institutionalized. Now those people who had been isolated from society were asking for a chance to live in a home like everyone else. Craig and I attended some of the hearings. We sat in awe of those residents from the institution who now stood before the legislative committee and pleaded their case. I can’t imagine how I would feel having to face such a panel, but these people were articulate and sure of what they were asking. I thought of other minority groups who had to fight for equal rights. Like Martin Luther King Jr., they were talking about their dreams for a brighter future. I thought of Chief Seattle, asking for fair treatment for his people, or Cesar Chavez and the California grape growers, fighting for fair working conditions. They did not expect someone else to speak for them but stood up for themselves just like any other group of people battling injustice. What they wanted is what was spoken of in the Bill of Rights … life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. They wanted to be able to live as independently as possible in the community with the rest of us. It seemed like a simple truth to me; they should have that right.

Fortunately, the Arizona legislature saw it that way as well. As a result of these hearings, most of the Coolidge facility was closed, and all but the most severe residents were placed in group homes in communities throughout Arizona. Of course there were some difficulties with neighbors who had no knowledge of people with cognitive challenges. Some were convinced that their new neighbors were oversexed and unable to control themselves. But little by little, the former residents of the Coolidge facility won their rights and adjusted to their new lives.

We met a man who had lived in an institution for thirty years and was now learning to balance his own checkbook. Like many others, he was benefiting from participation in the adult program at Marc Center. Their levels of abilities varied, and so did their needs, but now they had a chance to live as independently as they were capable of. It was an amazing experience, and we felt so fortunate to be a part of it.

Today, there is only one intermediate care facility in Arizona. It houses about one hundred residents whose needs are so severe that they are unable to survive outside a clinical setting. In the past five years, no new patients have been added to that facility. The goal of the DDD is to keep those with intellectual challenges in their homes if at all possible. In fact, Arizona ranks number one in the country in that regard. In addition to living at home, supported living arrangements and group homes are also very good options. Ultimately, the choice comes down to the person with the special needs, and that is as it should be.

From This Little Light of Mine: A Woman with Down Syndrome Shines Brightly in the World.

Martha and Mary

Mary-and-MarthaThe story of Martha and Mary in the Bible is one of my favorites. It is about two sisters who respond differently when Jesus comes to their house for dinner. Martha is busy with preparations, rushing around to get everything done. In the meantime, Mary sits at the feet of Jesus and listens to him talk.

I think many of us identify with one of the sisters. For me, I am most like Martha. When I have guests, I am constantly busy making sure everyone has what they need. In between tasks, I try to visit with my guests, but I always have things I need to do as well.

In the Bible story, Martha is upset when Mary doesn’t get up and help her. When Martha complains to Jesus, she expects him to order Mary to help. To Martha’s surprise, Jesus does just the opposite. He tells Martha that Mary has chosen the best way and he will not take that opportunity from her.

An incident in Seven Is a Perfect Number was the perfect place to introduce this story.  When the sharp-tongued Mrs. Henry breaks her leg, the Handy Helpers are called upon to help with some of her daily tasks. Reluctantly, they respond to Mrs. Henry’s daughter Clara’s plea to “not give up on her.” After spending an afternoon vacuuming and dusting Mrs. Henry’s house, Melissa comes home very upset. This is what happened:

“It’s just not right,” Melissa said as she plopped down on the sofa in her living room.

“What’s that, dear?” Her grandmother asked.

“We worked like slaves at Mrs. Henry’s house, dusting and vacuuming and mopping. And she didn’t even say thanks.”

“I’m sure she appreciated what you did for her,” Sarah patted her granddaughter on the shoulder. “It’s just hard for her to admit she needs help.”

“That’s not the worst part,” Melissa went on. “All the time we were working on her house, she was sitting there with Beth Anne, talking and laughing. They were looking at her photo album. Beth Anne didn’t even offer to help.”

“Talking to Mrs. Henry was helping,” Sarah pointed out.

“No it wasn’t,” Melissa continued, getting more upset. “She’s really lazy. I’m glad we didn’t vote to let her in the Handy Helpers.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sarah said, surprised.

“We were all working hard and she wasn’t doing anything. Like I said, she’s lazy.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Sarah said, patiently, “but maybe there’s another side you haven’t thought of.”

“Like what?”

“There’s a story from the Bible that might help,” Sarah went on.

“No offense, Grandma. But I don’t think something that happened to people thousands of years ago is going to be much help to me today.”

“I think you’ll be surprised. Anyway, humor an old lady and let me tell it. The story is about two sisters, Martha and Mary. Martha met Jesus and invited him to her home. She worked very hard to get everything ready and when Jesus arrived, Martha was busy serving food. Instead of helping her, her sister Mary sat down at Jesus’ feet and listened to him talk. Martha said to Jesus, ‘Don’t you care that my sister is letting me do all the serving myself? Tell her to help me.’ Jesus said to Martha, ‘You are worried about many things. But you only need one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and I won’t take it from her.’”

“So,” Melissa said with a shrug, “Jesus didn’t make Mary help her sister. I think he should have. She was being lazy.”

“Giving Jesus food was one way to serve him,” Sarah explained, “but Mary was serving him as well.”

“By just sitting there on the floor?”

“There are lots of ways to serve Jesus,” Sarah went on. “Serving him food was Martha’s way. He didn’t reject Martha or the food she served him. He just wanted her to see that Mary was also serving him by listening to his word. They were both serving Jesus, but he told Martha that Mary’s way was better.”

“Well Beth Anne was only talking to Mrs. Henry, not listening to Jesus,” Melissa stated emphatically. “It’s not the same.”

“I’m not so sure. Maybe Mrs. Henry needed someone to talk to more than she needed a clean house,” Sarah said.

From The Handy Helpers: Seven is a Perfect Number

We are all called to have a servant’s heart and to serve one another through love. But first we must have a heart for Jesus as Mary did. It is easy for me to be like Martha and I’m happy to serve others.  But it is my prayer that I can become more like Mary. For I am convinced that I will be a much more contented servant of Christ.

 

Written by Rosemary Heddens