From the reading corner <3

With all this recuperation in the middle of social distancing, I have been catching up on some reading. I have a rather large stack of books that have been in a pile waiting for me to have time and now time, I have. In abundance.

“All the Pretty Things” by Edie Wadswroth was gifted to me last year and has been resting patiently at the foot of our bed gathering dust for an entire year now. 

I picked it up early this week and I can’t put it down. 

I didn’t know who Edie Wadsworth was, but now she is like my best friend. 

Having roots in Kentucky, the vernacular of the dialogues and her narration just hit home with me. I know these people. I understand the setting. 

While I was not raised in the poverty she describes, I certainly was introduced to it and it tugs deep at my heart. 

I have not lived with the kind of dysfunction that was her normal. Oh, I know what dysfunction in a home is, but I didn’t go to bed hungry and alcoholism wasn’t my family’s story.

Let me note here that the book deals with some of the very ugly sides of both poverty and addiction as she shares about her broken upbringing, but she is so funny and so poignant in her writing that I highly recommend the book. 

But I want to share with you something that hit me hard last night. 

At five years old, Edie’s mom took her to Kindergarten and there she was given a wonderful, kind and loving teacher. 

This woman taught her to love books and introduced her to art and gave her worth. 

The school fed her a real meal every day, something she never had at home. 

So when summer came, while all the other children happily left for the carefree warmth of fun to be had, Edie sobbed and her teacher held her. 

She knew she would not have those five days a week of living in a better place than what her home was. 

I am sitting her with tears rolling down my face because I realize how many children out there in our country rely on school to be a safe place for a few hours each day. I can remember children when I subbed who were the worst behavior problems and yet never missed a day of school and were happy to be there all the time. 

The kids from “good” homes were often bored and their misbehavior was harder for me to understand than the children who obviously loved the structure of school and yet struggled with demons you and I have never known as they tried to find their place sitting still in a desk. 

I wept for teachers who know and love these kids; who have sat on screens and tried to engage them or wondered where they are since they never show up now for class. 

So prayers today for our children across the country – the ones who are well cared for and have parents who are making sure they are still getting the teaching and training needed and the ones who know hunger and loneliness and have seen more of the ugly parts of this world than you and I can even imagine. Prayers for teachers who are worn thin in this time and prayers for parents, all the parents. 

Sometimes/often, I just see what is right in front of my eyes and forget that our normal is not like so many other’s normal. Thankful for those who share their stories so we can understand each other more.