Dear Family and Friends,
I want to begin by thanking all of you for your loving prayers, wonderful meals, and precious cards during these last months. I do not know how anyone could make it through a severe illness without the support of families and friends.
I am writing this to you about my cancer journey. First, let me say that I am clinging more than ever to Romans 15:13, “May the God of Hope fill you with joy and peace as you trust in Him that you may overflow with Hope through the Power of the Holy Spirit.” I have a wonderful Doctor (Dr. Phillips) who reminds me at each visit that he consults with God about the treatment of his patients. So while I have confidence in the skill of this Godly man, I still proclaim that my Hope is in God.
My surgery in November went well and the doctor was able to remove a tumor that led to the diagnosis of Endometrial Stromal Sarcoma. I went through six weeks of daily radiation treatments at the Harrington Cancer Center under the care of Dr. Stafford. God blessed me by providing wonderful professional who took me through the treatments with tender care. At each step of the journey, I have not been afraid because my faith remains unshaken. For I know the same Savior who controls the wind and the waves has my life in His hands (Mark 4:35-40).
On each step of this journey, I have prayed that I would not have to undergo Chemotherapy, mainly due to the memories I have of my mother’s chemotherapy treatments many years ago. I confess to you that I did not want this leg of my journey and I have prayed asking God to spare me these treatments. For the first time in my life, I think I have a small understanding of Jesus’ prayer to let the cup pass from Him (Luke 22: 42). But, God has a different plan for me and so the next step of my journey will be six to eight months of Chemotherapy. I will receive the treatments in Lubbock every three weeks and will last six hours each time. During these months I will cling to Romans 5:1-5 knowing that my faith increases my hope.
So once again, I am asking you to pray for me and my family (James 5:13-16). Please pray for me on Monday, April 24th as the doctor implants the port for the Chemotherapy treatments. Please pray for travel safety as we will be going to Lubbock every three weeks. Please pray for my family as they care for me. Please pray for me as I endure the side effects of the Chemotherapy treatments, beginning Tuesday, April 25th. Please for me that I will regain my strength between treatments to be able to continue my daily activities.
I want to close by reaffirming to you that I have felt God’s presence at each leg of this journey. The most recent evidence comes in the form of the TAKS test. As many of you know, one of my jobs for BISD has been to coordinate the administration of the TAKS test at BMS. This is a time consuming job that takes an extreme amount of energy. This year, it was decided—long before anyone knew I was sick—to turn this responsibility over to the BMS Counselor. Next week is the “big” week of TAKS administration—there will be a test every day. I love the way God made provision for my illness and the beginning of Chemo treatments. There is no doubt in my mind, heart, or soul that God knew I would begin this difficult leg of my journey the same week as the “big” TAKS week.
To God be the Glory; Great things He has done; Great things He will do.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Father Are You There?
I was one of those bad Moms; I let my children sleep with me. My youngest was especially attached and when Dad decided she was to old to sleep between us, it was hard for her to be alone in her room. Almost every morning we would find her laying on the floor beside our bed inside her sleeping bag. No matter what punishment we threatened, fear would grip her during the night and here she would come. She just wanted to be near us.
When she was in second grade we moved into a new house. It was decided that Kimberly's room would be the one attached to the master bedroom. There was even a door that came from her room into ours. Surely this would make her feel safe at night so she could finally sleep in her own bed.
But each night the old fears would attack and she would say, "Mommy, can you hear me?" I would reply, "Yes, baby, I can hear you, can you hear me?" Seconds later, "Mommy, are you there?" "Yes, baby, I am still here?" In just a few minutes, "Mommy, can you hear me breathing?" With a deep sigh I would say, "Yes, baby, can you hear me breathing?" After a longer time, "Mommy, I love you, are you there?" With a smile, I would reply, "Yes baby, I am here, I love you, too." As sleep would begin to invade her little body, I usually got one last request, " Mommy, if you hear something will you come get me?" Knowing she was almost asleep I would reassure her, "Yes, Baby, but you are safe so go to sleep."
Now years later, I find myself being that little girl wanting reassurance from my Father. As I wait on the doctors, I find myself saying, "Father, can you hear me?" I am always met with the answer, "Yes, Debi, I can hear you."
Feeling confident, I proceed into life, but then comes another doctor appointment and more news and again I cry out, "Father, are you there?" "Yes, child, I am here." Once again, reassured and confident, I go on about my daily life.
Then Satan sends his ugly fear again, and I finding myself gasping, "Father, can you hear me breathing?" Lovingly He reminds me, "Yes child, I am the breath of life, I hear you breathing."
When she was in second grade we moved into a new house. It was decided that Kimberly's room would be the one attached to the master bedroom. There was even a door that came from her room into ours. Surely this would make her feel safe at night so she could finally sleep in her own bed.
But each night the old fears would attack and she would say, "Mommy, can you hear me?" I would reply, "Yes, baby, I can hear you, can you hear me?" Seconds later, "Mommy, are you there?" "Yes, baby, I am still here?" In just a few minutes, "Mommy, can you hear me breathing?" With a deep sigh I would say, "Yes, baby, can you hear me breathing?" After a longer time, "Mommy, I love you, are you there?" With a smile, I would reply, "Yes baby, I am here, I love you, too." As sleep would begin to invade her little body, I usually got one last request, " Mommy, if you hear something will you come get me?" Knowing she was almost asleep I would reassure her, "Yes, Baby, but you are safe so go to sleep."
Now years later, I find myself being that little girl wanting reassurance from my Father. As I wait on the doctors, I find myself saying, "Father, can you hear me?" I am always met with the answer, "Yes, Debi, I can hear you."
Feeling confident, I proceed into life, but then comes another doctor appointment and more news and again I cry out, "Father, are you there?" "Yes, child, I am here." Once again, reassured and confident, I go on about my daily life.
Then Satan sends his ugly fear again, and I finding myself gasping, "Father, can you hear me breathing?" Lovingly He reminds me, "Yes child, I am the breath of life, I hear you breathing."
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Christianity in Action: Even in the Snow
This weekend my wonderful husband and I went for a sleep study. Since we were a couple, the nurse decided to wire us up in the same room at the same time. Now in our 35 years of marriage we have shared many things, but I can honestly say, this was a new experience.
As she wired us, we talked about many topics including our jobs, grandchildren, and children. Toward the end of the wiring session, the nurse asked how long we had been married. I was proud but not surprised when Carl replied, "We've been married 35 years." To this she replied, "You two are such a hoot. I can tell you have fun together." Carl's next answer did surprise me, "Last summer we did a study with a young couple on Love Languages. That study really helped us understand each other." You guessed it, her question was, "What were your love languages?" My husband had now turned this wiring session into an explanation of love languages and how God uses an understanding of those languages to strengthen relationships. Now I am sitting with wires coming off my head feeling very guilty. My husband is witnessing to this nurse, while I am ignoring her by doing a Sudoku puzzle. He has taken an opportunity to show a person how Christ is alive and active in people's everyday lives.
The next morning we awoke to terrible snowy weather. We decided before driving home we would treat ourselves to the breakfast buffet at Furr's. We were the only car in the parking lot, but my rule follower husband would not park in the handicap parking next to the door. Oh no, he decides to park across from the door and gets stuck in a snow bank. After several minutes, he frees our car and at my urging (nagging) he parked in the handicapped spot.
Just as we settle into our spot, a car pulls up in front of Furr's and several women get out. The car pulls away from the door, and you guessed it, got stuck in the same snow bank. Now my husband decides to help the young man get free. He goes over and starts to push. As he is pushing, the car swerves toward him and I am sure he will be run over. To this sight while sitting in the warm car, I am saying, "Carl, just get in this car before you get hurt." Of course, he did not hear me because now he is using a shovel to dig the car out. After many minutes of pushing, digging, and swerving the car goes free.
As we are sitting eating our breakfast, the manager of Furr's comes over. She begins to tell Carl how much she appreciated his help with the car. It seems that the young man was the husband of the cashier and he had brought several ladies to work. The manager told Carl that it wasn't often that a person was willing to help a stranger and that she wanted him to have a gift card as a reward for his effort. Carl replied that there was no need for a thank you. He told her, "That is what people do, they help someone in trouble." Now I am feeling very guilty, because you may remember, I just wanted him to get in the car.
I am glad God sends gentle reprimands to me. I began to wonder how many opportunities I had missed to put my Christianity into action. Colossians 4:17 "And whatevery you do or say, whether in word or deed, do it as a representative of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him."
Does that include getting a car out of a snow bank? You bet it does, I am sure if Christ had been in the parking lot He would have been helping. But since Christ was not physically there, Carl had to be His hands and feet.
Does that include telling a nurse that a Christian based study on love has helped our marriage? Of course, it does. If Christ had been in the room, He would have proclaimed the blessing of a Godly spouse. But since Christ could not physically be in the room, Carl had to be His mouth.
So Lord, I am reprimanded. Thank you for reminding that we, the Christians, are your hands, feet, and mouth on this earth. Keep ever present in my mind that everyday life offers countless opportunities to share the love of Christ with lost and huring people.
Yes, our Christianity should be in action, even in the cold, bitter snow.
As she wired us, we talked about many topics including our jobs, grandchildren, and children. Toward the end of the wiring session, the nurse asked how long we had been married. I was proud but not surprised when Carl replied, "We've been married 35 years." To this she replied, "You two are such a hoot. I can tell you have fun together." Carl's next answer did surprise me, "Last summer we did a study with a young couple on Love Languages. That study really helped us understand each other." You guessed it, her question was, "What were your love languages?" My husband had now turned this wiring session into an explanation of love languages and how God uses an understanding of those languages to strengthen relationships. Now I am sitting with wires coming off my head feeling very guilty. My husband is witnessing to this nurse, while I am ignoring her by doing a Sudoku puzzle. He has taken an opportunity to show a person how Christ is alive and active in people's everyday lives.
The next morning we awoke to terrible snowy weather. We decided before driving home we would treat ourselves to the breakfast buffet at Furr's. We were the only car in the parking lot, but my rule follower husband would not park in the handicap parking next to the door. Oh no, he decides to park across from the door and gets stuck in a snow bank. After several minutes, he frees our car and at my urging (nagging) he parked in the handicapped spot.
Just as we settle into our spot, a car pulls up in front of Furr's and several women get out. The car pulls away from the door, and you guessed it, got stuck in the same snow bank. Now my husband decides to help the young man get free. He goes over and starts to push. As he is pushing, the car swerves toward him and I am sure he will be run over. To this sight while sitting in the warm car, I am saying, "Carl, just get in this car before you get hurt." Of course, he did not hear me because now he is using a shovel to dig the car out. After many minutes of pushing, digging, and swerving the car goes free.
As we are sitting eating our breakfast, the manager of Furr's comes over. She begins to tell Carl how much she appreciated his help with the car. It seems that the young man was the husband of the cashier and he had brought several ladies to work. The manager told Carl that it wasn't often that a person was willing to help a stranger and that she wanted him to have a gift card as a reward for his effort. Carl replied that there was no need for a thank you. He told her, "That is what people do, they help someone in trouble." Now I am feeling very guilty, because you may remember, I just wanted him to get in the car.
I am glad God sends gentle reprimands to me. I began to wonder how many opportunities I had missed to put my Christianity into action. Colossians 4:17 "And whatevery you do or say, whether in word or deed, do it as a representative of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him."
Does that include getting a car out of a snow bank? You bet it does, I am sure if Christ had been in the parking lot He would have been helping. But since Christ was not physically there, Carl had to be His hands and feet.
Does that include telling a nurse that a Christian based study on love has helped our marriage? Of course, it does. If Christ had been in the room, He would have proclaimed the blessing of a Godly spouse. But since Christ could not physically be in the room, Carl had to be His mouth.
So Lord, I am reprimanded. Thank you for reminding that we, the Christians, are your hands, feet, and mouth on this earth. Keep ever present in my mind that everyday life offers countless opportunities to share the love of Christ with lost and huring people.
Yes, our Christianity should be in action, even in the cold, bitter snow.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Snow Days and Precious Memories
There is something so beautiful about snow. The glistening blanket of snow is pure, unblemished, untouched by anything or anyone. I am always reminded that God has covered my sins making them as white as snow; before God I am pure and unblemished.
Any accumulation of snow in the Texas Panhandle brings with it closings of schools, churches, and any social events. These closings force families into their homes where they actually have to spend time together.
Because I work for the school system snow days are bitter sweet. In one sense it is a day off work but on the other hand it is a loss of a holiday. In this case, the Monday after Easter which is one of my favorite days out of school. So as I contemplated being home today, I began to remember many precious memories of days gone by.
I grew up in Phillips, a company town. One winter it snowed so much that everything stopped; in fact, the snow was so deep everything was shut down for several days. My father worked at the Phillps plant; since no one could come or go, the men who were at work when the snow started were stuck. My mother was trapped at home with four girls. Mom did not drive and, even if she had we only had the one car which was with Dad at work. Many families including mine could not get to the store to get groceries or anything else for that matter. In our little town we had the Cut Rite Grocery owned by Frank Badeen. Soon our phone rang, it was Frank asking if we needed any groceries. Mom gave him her list and he assured her he would bring the supplies. Do not ask me how he managed, but before the end of the day, Frank arrived with our groceries. When Mom offered him what money she had, he replied, "Just pay me when you can." I do not know how many families he helped during those days, but I know that to the Cheatwood family, he was an angel sent by God.
My Mom loved to read and I am fortunate that she taught me to love books. She bought books from our Weekly Reader Book Club and kept them ready for snow days or days when we were sick. So on snow days, we each got a book wrapped up in our blankets and started to read. I think these days are the reason that once I start a book I want to read until I have it finished. When we finished our book, Mom would ask us to tell her all about it. Still today on a snowy day, I am tempted to curl up under a blanket with a book.
So today is a snow day and I am the Grandma. I am at home with three little boys and I am trying to create memories for them. We started under a pile of blankets watching an exciting episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. After breakfast we broke out the Play Doh, a special treat. The boys love it, Nana not so much, but it is fun watching them create monsters and globs. After lunch, an energetic game of Wii Sports and Star Wars, the Clone Wars. I am making stew and brownies. Each boy is picking out a book to read under our pile of blankets.
Glistening snow is beautiful, but today the most beautiful thing in the world is the smiles on three the faces of three little boys.
Any accumulation of snow in the Texas Panhandle brings with it closings of schools, churches, and any social events. These closings force families into their homes where they actually have to spend time together.
Because I work for the school system snow days are bitter sweet. In one sense it is a day off work but on the other hand it is a loss of a holiday. In this case, the Monday after Easter which is one of my favorite days out of school. So as I contemplated being home today, I began to remember many precious memories of days gone by.
I grew up in Phillips, a company town. One winter it snowed so much that everything stopped; in fact, the snow was so deep everything was shut down for several days. My father worked at the Phillps plant; since no one could come or go, the men who were at work when the snow started were stuck. My mother was trapped at home with four girls. Mom did not drive and, even if she had we only had the one car which was with Dad at work. Many families including mine could not get to the store to get groceries or anything else for that matter. In our little town we had the Cut Rite Grocery owned by Frank Badeen. Soon our phone rang, it was Frank asking if we needed any groceries. Mom gave him her list and he assured her he would bring the supplies. Do not ask me how he managed, but before the end of the day, Frank arrived with our groceries. When Mom offered him what money she had, he replied, "Just pay me when you can." I do not know how many families he helped during those days, but I know that to the Cheatwood family, he was an angel sent by God.
My Mom loved to read and I am fortunate that she taught me to love books. She bought books from our Weekly Reader Book Club and kept them ready for snow days or days when we were sick. So on snow days, we each got a book wrapped up in our blankets and started to read. I think these days are the reason that once I start a book I want to read until I have it finished. When we finished our book, Mom would ask us to tell her all about it. Still today on a snowy day, I am tempted to curl up under a blanket with a book.
So today is a snow day and I am the Grandma. I am at home with three little boys and I am trying to create memories for them. We started under a pile of blankets watching an exciting episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. After breakfast we broke out the Play Doh, a special treat. The boys love it, Nana not so much, but it is fun watching them create monsters and globs. After lunch, an energetic game of Wii Sports and Star Wars, the Clone Wars. I am making stew and brownies. Each boy is picking out a book to read under our pile of blankets.
Glistening snow is beautiful, but today the most beautiful thing in the world is the smiles on three the faces of three little boys.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Eternal Events
I love the way God deals with our family. Tonight the five year old informed us that we had missed the four year old's Christmas program. We were shocked and dismayed at this news. There had been no note to tell us and no reminder from the school. Just to make sure we understood the enormity of the situation, the five year old told us how his little brother had looked around for Mommy, Nana, and Pepe'. He assured us that he had waved at his little brother and smiled at him. Our hearts were broken at the thought of our little miracle boy singing and looking anxiously for us. We were feeling sad, angry, and guilty all at once.
After an hour or so of lamentation over the lost opportunity to see our baby in his Christmas program-an event that could never be recaptured- Kimberly took the boys home to get ready for the next day. Hopefully, there would be no more missed programs or parties.
When they got home the boys went into their room to play. Soon Austin was back in a panic. "Mom, does the Devil live in the ground under our house?" Nathanael, the missionary, had been talking to his brother about the fact that anyone who did not have Jesus in their heart would have to live with the Devil under the ground. After an affirmative answer, Austin said, "Mom, I have got to ask Jesus in my heart right now." So, Kimberly had the wonderful, joyous privilege of leading her oldest son to the Lord.
Now the sadness of missing a temporal event like the Christmas program had been replaced with the joy of the eternal event of a sinner being reconciled to God. Austin told Nana on the phone, "The angels are singing Glory to God in the highest because I asked Jesus in my heart. And they are telling God and He is so happy."
No wonder Jesus loved the little children so much. This is the truth, that when one sinner accepts Jesus, there is much praising in Heaven.
While I am sad that we missed Tyler's program, I am glad that God sent a reminder that eternal things are more important than temporal things. Glory to God in the highest, my grandson is a child of the King.
After an hour or so of lamentation over the lost opportunity to see our baby in his Christmas program-an event that could never be recaptured- Kimberly took the boys home to get ready for the next day. Hopefully, there would be no more missed programs or parties.
When they got home the boys went into their room to play. Soon Austin was back in a panic. "Mom, does the Devil live in the ground under our house?" Nathanael, the missionary, had been talking to his brother about the fact that anyone who did not have Jesus in their heart would have to live with the Devil under the ground. After an affirmative answer, Austin said, "Mom, I have got to ask Jesus in my heart right now." So, Kimberly had the wonderful, joyous privilege of leading her oldest son to the Lord.
Now the sadness of missing a temporal event like the Christmas program had been replaced with the joy of the eternal event of a sinner being reconciled to God. Austin told Nana on the phone, "The angels are singing Glory to God in the highest because I asked Jesus in my heart. And they are telling God and He is so happy."
No wonder Jesus loved the little children so much. This is the truth, that when one sinner accepts Jesus, there is much praising in Heaven.
While I am sad that we missed Tyler's program, I am glad that God sent a reminder that eternal things are more important than temporal things. Glory to God in the highest, my grandson is a child of the King.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Glory to God in the Highest
Christmas, my favorite holiday. But this Christmas has a new meaning for me. Although is has been the usual hustle bustle with parties galore, I have been more conscious of the real meaning behind the holiday.
Now I know what you are going to say, "Yes, Jesus is the reason for the season" and you are right. Jesus was born on that Christmas day to be the Savior for all men.I love the image of God sending His Son as a tiny, helpless baby. God must have seen something very special in Mary to know that she would be just the right Mother for this tiny baby and little boy. After all, Jesus had to be nurtured and loved into His adult life by Mary, His Mom.
This Christmas season, I am hearing concerns that the world is taking Christ out of Christmas. I wonder why we Christians are shocked about that fact? This is not a new phenomenon. For years people have focused on presents and parties instead of the purpose for the season. Especially in America, we tend to be wrapped up in ourselves instead of being wrapped up in message of Christmas.
Which brings me to my point? The message of Christmas. This fall, I have been taking a study called, "On Mission with God." The focus of this study is that everything was created to give glory to God. God wants our lives to be lived in a way to give Him glory.
Our family was asked to light the Advent candle at church. The scripture we read was Luke 2:8-14. Now I am a lifetime Christian. I was raised in church and I have heard the Christmas story for all the 55 years of my life. I have read the Christmas story to my children and my grandchildren, but this year God showed me something beyond the birth of His Son.
Luke 2:14 says, "Glory to God in the highest." No matter what translation you read it says, "Glory to God in the highest." The angels proclaimed the birth of Jesus by giving glory to God. God sent Jesus not only to die for the sins of man. God sent Jesus not only to make reconciliation between sinful man and Himself. God sent Jesus to bring glory to Himself!
The new meaning of Christmas for me is not to keep Christ in Christmas; folks no one can take Him out of the season if He lives in our hearts. The new meaning of Christmas for me is not about the baby who grew to be the Savior of all mankind for I ask myself, "What will I do with that salvation?" The new meaning of Christmas for me is, "Glory to God in the highest."
Glory to God who guides me in my everyday life. Glory to God as He protects me from this world I live in temporarily. Glory to God for my family. Glory to God for my friends.Glory to God for my job. Glory to God for all the people I meet each day. Glory to God for the hard times. Glory to God for the good times.
"Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased." I pray Father God that my life will never cease to give You glory!
Now I know what you are going to say, "Yes, Jesus is the reason for the season" and you are right. Jesus was born on that Christmas day to be the Savior for all men.I love the image of God sending His Son as a tiny, helpless baby. God must have seen something very special in Mary to know that she would be just the right Mother for this tiny baby and little boy. After all, Jesus had to be nurtured and loved into His adult life by Mary, His Mom.
This Christmas season, I am hearing concerns that the world is taking Christ out of Christmas. I wonder why we Christians are shocked about that fact? This is not a new phenomenon. For years people have focused on presents and parties instead of the purpose for the season. Especially in America, we tend to be wrapped up in ourselves instead of being wrapped up in message of Christmas.
Which brings me to my point? The message of Christmas. This fall, I have been taking a study called, "On Mission with God." The focus of this study is that everything was created to give glory to God. God wants our lives to be lived in a way to give Him glory.
Our family was asked to light the Advent candle at church. The scripture we read was Luke 2:8-14. Now I am a lifetime Christian. I was raised in church and I have heard the Christmas story for all the 55 years of my life. I have read the Christmas story to my children and my grandchildren, but this year God showed me something beyond the birth of His Son.
Luke 2:14 says, "Glory to God in the highest." No matter what translation you read it says, "Glory to God in the highest." The angels proclaimed the birth of Jesus by giving glory to God. God sent Jesus not only to die for the sins of man. God sent Jesus not only to make reconciliation between sinful man and Himself. God sent Jesus to bring glory to Himself!
The new meaning of Christmas for me is not to keep Christ in Christmas; folks no one can take Him out of the season if He lives in our hearts. The new meaning of Christmas for me is not about the baby who grew to be the Savior of all mankind for I ask myself, "What will I do with that salvation?" The new meaning of Christmas for me is, "Glory to God in the highest."
Glory to God who guides me in my everyday life. Glory to God as He protects me from this world I live in temporarily. Glory to God for my family. Glory to God for my friends.Glory to God for my job. Glory to God for all the people I meet each day. Glory to God for the hard times. Glory to God for the good times.
"Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased." I pray Father God that my life will never cease to give You glory!
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Veterans’ Day and the Give Me Generation
All too often we hear cries that this generation of kids has no respect for anyone or anything. I am writing to say that last Wednesday that idea was proven absolutely wrong.
I have been at the Borger Middle School for 21 years. In that time I have seen many groups of kids come and go. I must admit that this generation does seem more self absorbed that any I have seen. We try to teach the Golden Rule, “Treat others as you want to be treated” but often that philosophy falls on deaf ears.
Last Wednesday BMS had the annual Veterans’ Day assembly. I have attended many such assemblies through the years and have some wonderful memories of displays of patriotism by teenage boys and girls. The expertise and skill of the BMS Social Studies department headed by Janet Fleming is always apparent in these assemblies.
But this Veterans’ Day assembly was different. For one thing the Veterans that attended were different. They were younger, many ex-students at BMS. It is shocking to think that young men we have taught are now on foreign soil defending our country. Many of the young veterans have seen action in Iraq and Afghanistan which brought home the reality that this country is at war. The other special thing about this group of veterans is that they all had a connection to a student at Borger Middle School. Uncles, Grandfathers, and Fathers were honored guests.
Now to the evidence that will dispel the myth that this Give Me Generation has no respect. During the assemblies, the Veterans were given a place of honor on the stage. As these men entered the stage, teenagers rose to their feet and began to clap. There was no prompting by the teachers; it was a spontaneous reaction of honor to these men by the students. In seconds all the students were on their feet. As the names and service records of the men were read, the student connected to that Veteran stood proudly to his or her feet. After all the names had been read, once again the students rose to their feet honoring the veterans on the stage.
The father of one of the students was asked to speak. As he talked to them about success in life, the students listened quietly. This soldier who has seen active duty in many war zones told the kids that the key to success was their “mental attitude.”
The assembly always ends with the playing of Taps. As the sound of that lone trumpet filled the auditorium with that haunting melody, there was a definite air of reverence. Not one student talked. Not one student moved. You see these kids understood the significance of that song.
For almost an hour, the students remained attentive and respectful during an assembly meant to honor the men and women who have fought for this country. As I watched their faces, I knew in my heart that the myth was false. On that Wednesday, I knew that these kids understood the importance of the basic values this country was founded on. One nation under God, indivisible with liberty and justice for all; these words had taken root and were growing in the hearts and minds of these kids.
So next time you hear someone saying that this generation has no respect, you tell them that is just a myth. There is hope for this Give Me Generation because deep down in their souls, they understand that all they have been given has come at a great price of blood, sweat, and tears.
I have been at the Borger Middle School for 21 years. In that time I have seen many groups of kids come and go. I must admit that this generation does seem more self absorbed that any I have seen. We try to teach the Golden Rule, “Treat others as you want to be treated” but often that philosophy falls on deaf ears.
Last Wednesday BMS had the annual Veterans’ Day assembly. I have attended many such assemblies through the years and have some wonderful memories of displays of patriotism by teenage boys and girls. The expertise and skill of the BMS Social Studies department headed by Janet Fleming is always apparent in these assemblies.
But this Veterans’ Day assembly was different. For one thing the Veterans that attended were different. They were younger, many ex-students at BMS. It is shocking to think that young men we have taught are now on foreign soil defending our country. Many of the young veterans have seen action in Iraq and Afghanistan which brought home the reality that this country is at war. The other special thing about this group of veterans is that they all had a connection to a student at Borger Middle School. Uncles, Grandfathers, and Fathers were honored guests.
Now to the evidence that will dispel the myth that this Give Me Generation has no respect. During the assemblies, the Veterans were given a place of honor on the stage. As these men entered the stage, teenagers rose to their feet and began to clap. There was no prompting by the teachers; it was a spontaneous reaction of honor to these men by the students. In seconds all the students were on their feet. As the names and service records of the men were read, the student connected to that Veteran stood proudly to his or her feet. After all the names had been read, once again the students rose to their feet honoring the veterans on the stage.
The father of one of the students was asked to speak. As he talked to them about success in life, the students listened quietly. This soldier who has seen active duty in many war zones told the kids that the key to success was their “mental attitude.”
The assembly always ends with the playing of Taps. As the sound of that lone trumpet filled the auditorium with that haunting melody, there was a definite air of reverence. Not one student talked. Not one student moved. You see these kids understood the significance of that song.
For almost an hour, the students remained attentive and respectful during an assembly meant to honor the men and women who have fought for this country. As I watched their faces, I knew in my heart that the myth was false. On that Wednesday, I knew that these kids understood the importance of the basic values this country was founded on. One nation under God, indivisible with liberty and justice for all; these words had taken root and were growing in the hearts and minds of these kids.
So next time you hear someone saying that this generation has no respect, you tell them that is just a myth. There is hope for this Give Me Generation because deep down in their souls, they understand that all they have been given has come at a great price of blood, sweat, and tears.
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