This was the entry that finally won out to be my submission for the NCRA Young Author's project.
New note (2/09/09) My poem won at the state level as well and will be included in the Young Author's project 2009 compilation book! Thanks to all who voted and helped me choose!
The Bridge
Standing on the bridge,
I am 11, exploring a new neighborhood
With my family:
The pond, the woods, the neighbors,
Staring off one side to the deep water,
Dark and foreboding
To the other side,
A simple waterfall,
Splashing down to rocks below.
Standing on the bridge,
I am 12, adventuring
With my brother:
Bologna sandwiches in hand,
Stepping across gaping holes,
Wicked and empty
To find the perfect spot
For a picnic, a picture, a quest,
Talking about everything and nothing
Standing on the bridge,
I am 14, going fishing
With Grandmama,
Digging worms, Baiting hooks,
Watching bobbers disappear
Fading into the oblivion of the pond
Until we slowly pulled up
A catfish, bass, or perch,
Quietly enjoying the peace.
Standing on the bridge,
I am 16, trying to impress
Matt and Wayne,
Maneuvering the idiosyncracies
Of the familiar bridge,
Hoping my bravery and daring
Will be appreciated
And true love
Will be mine
Standing on the bridge,
I am 18, loving and in love
With Steven,
Celebrating my birthday –
Kisses, pictures, friends, and brother
Waiting to enter the adventure
Of adulthood
And independence
Forever
Standing on the bridge,
I am 41, remembering
With my husband,
Recalling old memories
Of old boyfriends, childhood adventures
Fishes caught and ones that got away,
Moments of relaxation
And peace-- And love
And bridges.
Tonnye Williams Fletcher
Union Chapel Elementary School
Forever Young
Robeson County
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Friendbridges
(This was one of two entries I wrote for the NCRA's Young Author Project)
Friendbridges
I am a bridge builder. I don’t use lumber and nails and hammers and drills. I don’t fashion my bridges from metal, wood, concrete, or steel. I build bridges between people – they’re called friendships, (though perhaps they should be called friendbridges instead. . . .) The best friendbridge I’ve ever built began over 30 years ago. I was in fourth grade, and met a girl named Rachel. I don’t remember our first words or how the friendbridge began exactly. What I do know is that pretty soon we were sharing everything – string games (“Show me again how to do Jacob’s Ladder. . .), French fries, popsicles (Those were the days of the doubles and we’d each break ours in half and have half grape/half orange.),and favorite books (at the time, dog books, horse books and Nancy Drew books). Once, our teacher even caught us sharing a lollipop (although she discouraged that). It was a good year for friendbridges.
Fifth and sixth grade saw us separated into different classes, but by seventh grade we were together again: sharing pizza, crushes on boys, and school projects. She was my best friend when I had mono, when my baby sister was born. Eighth grade we shared the responsibility of putting up the flag every morning, giggles and class conversations that sometimes got us into trouble. Friendbridges grow by sharing.
High school brought more incredible experiences and memories; getting drivers’ licenses, proms, football games. We were very different – I was a trumpeter in the band; she was on the annual staff. I was wide open, with wild abandon; she was cautious, soft-spoken and shy. Yet, we still found things to share. Participation in drama club brought us memories that would last a lifetime – including a week-long trip to New York City, where we even shared getting lost. (I wonder if that mounted policeman still talks about those two southern girls who were trying to find “Forty-eighth and eighth”. . . .) There was boy trouble and family trouble. There were rocky times in our lives and in our friendship, but we discovered that friendbridges grow stronger by weathering adversity.
Now, Rachel and I are “all grown-up”. We are still incredibly different. I am colorful and eccentric, chunky and loud. Rachel is thin, still soft-spoken, and very normal. I am a teacher --she is a mom. I’ve lived in three states and love to travel – Rachel loves to stay home. Every time I’m with her, I learn something new about her. She has taught me so much about learning to see beauty in simplicity, using strength that comes from deep within, the joy of giving and the grace in receiving, and so much more. We live five hours from each other, so now our sharing is often done via email and cell phones, although we visit in person at least twice a year. After thirty-plus years together, we have learned that friendbridges grow longer and stronger with time.
Friendbridges
I am a bridge builder. I don’t use lumber and nails and hammers and drills. I don’t fashion my bridges from metal, wood, concrete, or steel. I build bridges between people – they’re called friendships, (though perhaps they should be called friendbridges instead. . . .) The best friendbridge I’ve ever built began over 30 years ago. I was in fourth grade, and met a girl named Rachel. I don’t remember our first words or how the friendbridge began exactly. What I do know is that pretty soon we were sharing everything – string games (“Show me again how to do Jacob’s Ladder. . .), French fries, popsicles (Those were the days of the doubles and we’d each break ours in half and have half grape/half orange.),and favorite books (at the time, dog books, horse books and Nancy Drew books). Once, our teacher even caught us sharing a lollipop (although she discouraged that). It was a good year for friendbridges.
Fifth and sixth grade saw us separated into different classes, but by seventh grade we were together again: sharing pizza, crushes on boys, and school projects. She was my best friend when I had mono, when my baby sister was born. Eighth grade we shared the responsibility of putting up the flag every morning, giggles and class conversations that sometimes got us into trouble. Friendbridges grow by sharing.
High school brought more incredible experiences and memories; getting drivers’ licenses, proms, football games. We were very different – I was a trumpeter in the band; she was on the annual staff. I was wide open, with wild abandon; she was cautious, soft-spoken and shy. Yet, we still found things to share. Participation in drama club brought us memories that would last a lifetime – including a week-long trip to New York City, where we even shared getting lost. (I wonder if that mounted policeman still talks about those two southern girls who were trying to find “Forty-eighth and eighth”. . . .) There was boy trouble and family trouble. There were rocky times in our lives and in our friendship, but we discovered that friendbridges grow stronger by weathering adversity.
Now, Rachel and I are “all grown-up”. We are still incredibly different. I am colorful and eccentric, chunky and loud. Rachel is thin, still soft-spoken, and very normal. I am a teacher --she is a mom. I’ve lived in three states and love to travel – Rachel loves to stay home. Every time I’m with her, I learn something new about her. She has taught me so much about learning to see beauty in simplicity, using strength that comes from deep within, the joy of giving and the grace in receiving, and so much more. We live five hours from each other, so now our sharing is often done via email and cell phones, although we visit in person at least twice a year. After thirty-plus years together, we have learned that friendbridges grow longer and stronger with time.
Meditation on holidays and death
How would our Thanksgiving be different if we knew it was our last one all together? Would we have said a longer prayer? Would we have hugged each other even though we live across the field from each other? Would we have gone around the table, saying nice things about each other and how thankful we are to have each other? Would we recount memories of past Thanksgivings, and people we loved who are no longer with us? Would we have spent less time rushing and more time just being together? Would we have been more patient? Would we have cried together? Laughed more? Watched old family movies? Read the Bible? Held hands? The thoughts of it being our last are truly unthinkable with the assumed promise of so many more to come. And yet, startlingly, I have been smacked in the face with the possibility recently that, truly, this one could have been our last. And how should that change how we celebrate? For some, this was their last. Unexpectedly, unwarranted, came death, and stole a part of some families – right here between Thanksgiving and Christmas. How will their Christmas change this year? Will it be overwhelmingly sad or will they find a joy to press on through and live this Christmas in such a way that they will have absolutely no regrets, in case this might also be their last Christmas together. I pray that somehow we will all learn how to live so in the present that when death comes we will have no regrets.
How would our Thanksgiving be different if we knew it was our last one all together? Would we have said a longer prayer? Would we have hugged each other even though we live across the field from each other? Would we have gone around the table, saying nice things about each other and how thankful we are to have each other? Would we recount memories of past Thanksgivings, and people we loved who are no longer with us? Would we have spent less time rushing and more time just being together? Would we have been more patient? Would we have cried together? Laughed more? Watched old family movies? Read the Bible? Held hands? The thoughts of it being our last are truly unthinkable with the assumed promise of so many more to come. And yet, startlingly, I have been smacked in the face with the possibility recently that, truly, this one could have been our last. And how should that change how we celebrate? For some, this was their last. Unexpectedly, unwarranted, came death, and stole a part of some families – right here between Thanksgiving and Christmas. How will their Christmas change this year? Will it be overwhelmingly sad or will they find a joy to press on through and live this Christmas in such a way that they will have absolutely no regrets, in case this might also be their last Christmas together. I pray that somehow we will all learn how to live so in the present that when death comes we will have no regrets.
For Larry
We lost someone who used to be a dear friend to our family this week. Our families have grown apart in recent years, but I still have very fond memories of early times together. My prayers are constant for this precious family.
For Larry
I think of presents, already bought, maybe already under the tree,
With your name on them --
And Christmas morning without you in your home.
I think of grandchildren who will never know their grandfather,
Probably have no memories whatsoever.
I think of a wife whose grief must be absolutely inconsolable,
And pray this experience will turn into an exercise in gratitude
And living in the moment
Rather than carrying grief and anger that are way too heavy for her heart.
I think of children who are too young to lose their father
(Is there ever an age when you’re not too young to give up your daddy?)
I think of your pew at church and the empty spot you will leave;
I think of a few Sundays ago, when we sang all the songs
You used to lead and we called it Larry Sunday.
I remember when you and Bonnie were dating,
Then married,
I remember when Rex was born.
I remember ya’ll trying repeatedly for a girl, and finally getting one.
I remember yard conversations after church
It seems so numbly unbelievable that you could be gone.
Moreso I’m sure to your family, who loves you so much.
I am saddened by how our families grew apart,
But I harbor no ill will for you or yours.
My prayers are for your family right now,
How I hope they will cherish the time you had together,
That they will remember the good times,
That they will channel the sadness of losing someone in the middle of Christmas
Into happy memories of Christmases past. . . .
And hope for happy Christmases to come.
For Larry
I think of presents, already bought, maybe already under the tree,
With your name on them --
And Christmas morning without you in your home.
I think of grandchildren who will never know their grandfather,
Probably have no memories whatsoever.
I think of a wife whose grief must be absolutely inconsolable,
And pray this experience will turn into an exercise in gratitude
And living in the moment
Rather than carrying grief and anger that are way too heavy for her heart.
I think of children who are too young to lose their father
(Is there ever an age when you’re not too young to give up your daddy?)
I think of your pew at church and the empty spot you will leave;
I think of a few Sundays ago, when we sang all the songs
You used to lead and we called it Larry Sunday.
I remember when you and Bonnie were dating,
Then married,
I remember when Rex was born.
I remember ya’ll trying repeatedly for a girl, and finally getting one.
I remember yard conversations after church
It seems so numbly unbelievable that you could be gone.
Moreso I’m sure to your family, who loves you so much.
I am saddened by how our families grew apart,
But I harbor no ill will for you or yours.
My prayers are for your family right now,
How I hope they will cherish the time you had together,
That they will remember the good times,
That they will channel the sadness of losing someone in the middle of Christmas
Into happy memories of Christmases past. . . .
And hope for happy Christmases to come.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sentence Strips and Jingle Dancers
So today was one of the most chaotic school days of the year. First of all it's the last day before Thanksgiving holiday. . . can we say wound tighter than a yo-yo?? That would be my children right now. . . Also, we had a field trip today -- there was money to get situated, children who weren't going on the trip, but needed a place to stay and stuff to deal with before we could leave. . . .the field trip was to the university to see a Christmas musical revue pretty much. . .it was great, but didn't do anything to calm the children :~) When we got back, we rushed right into lunch, back to the room for just a few, then we had to be at the gym for our annual king/queen day (read here a fundraiser where everyone and their brother, sister, grandma. .. .buys tons of tickets for a $ each then we have a bajillion drawings for things staff have donated so they can win things. . .then the boy and the girl who sold the most tickets in each class become the prince/princess (PK-2) and the king/queen (3-6). ) I was feeling pretty proud that I had gotten all the necessary pieces into the puzzle today, when I had a student get sick at lunch, called her mom, then took her to the office on the way to the gym to let them know someone was coming for her. My balloon of pride was quickly deflated (read here pricked with a pin and zooming all around the room) as I saw another teacher with "crowns" in her hand. . . ."Oh, SNAP!" It quite suddenly dawned on me (read here crashed down upon my head with great force!) that I should have prepared 3 crowns (since my twins were tied for my princess. . . .) Usually I pick some up at Burger King and I paint them or cover up the BK logo and decorate them . . . But not today -- since my children are already in the gym and the program has begun. . .so I dash back to the room, asking everyone along the way, "Do you have any extra crowns?" No, no, no. . . so I get to the classroom, thinking frantically how I'm going to make 3 crowns in less than 3 minutes. I grabbed 3 sentence strips from my cabinet. . . .folded them, cut scallops from the top of each. . .Then I covered each one with aluminum foil (which I only had because last week's chaos was the Native American decorate-the-door contest, for which we made a jingle dancer, for which we made jingles out of aluminum foil, and btw, there was only just barely enough aluminum foil left to cover the 3 crowns I had to make. I stuck a roll of tape in my pocket to attach their crowns, took off back to the gym, sat through the hour and a half long program with 25 restless children, brought them back to the room, helped them pack up, choose books for the long break, write down AR scores, and clean up their trash. Finally, the bell rang (thankfully) but oh, did I mention I had the last meeting of my writers' group for the young author contest until 4:15, which turned into 5:15 until I could get them basically done. . . This is one day I'm happy to have behind me for another year!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! whew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, November 7, 2008
The Dark Knight
Halloween night, Shane and I went to see The Dark Knight, and I must say it was aptly named. We did not see the 3D version, which Shane was glad about (since his surgery, the 3D stuff bothers him a bit). We did, however, see it at an IMAX theatre, so it was HUGE. . . and with surround sound, it certainly made you feel like you were right there. I thought Heath Ledger's performance was certainly dark, and I guess appropriate, but I found it very sad, overall. For one thing, there's the whole "this-was-his-last-movie" thing. That is sad enough, but the movie was sad throughout -- a little pessimistic for me. Well-done, but very pessimistic. The main quote that seemed to encapsulate the theme is proof-positive: "You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." And, indeed, it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Me, I prefer my caped crusaders with a more positive bent. Pretty good choice for a Halloween flick for those of us who don't like slasher films. . . .
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Halloween Fun
Last night was Halloween. It was an occassion to reminisce over past Halloweens -- and to experience some new things. We found ourselves at Myrtle Beach for the day, and the evening. It was a new experience. Previous Halloweens have found us at parties for church or celebrating quietly at home. We're not big horror movie fans, so it was touch'n'go for a while to find something interesting to do for the big night. As we wandered around, we checked out the movie theatres to see if there was a good movie that wasn't too scary. . .we found ourselves at Broadway at the Beach. Suddenly, we were spectators for an unparallelled Halloween parade. As it turns out, Broadway invited trick-or-treaters to tour the shopping center for safe trick-or-treating. So, we encountered vampires, Hannah Montana, hobos, Bat Man, Spider Man, witches and ghosts of every shape and size, Dorothy, scarecrows, Harry Potter, and all manner of ghastly creatures. . .We even saw the Mario Brothers, complete with mustaches, overalls and over-sized yellow buttons -- how cute! The theatre was giving away free popcorn to the little monsters and some were riding the rides at Pavilion Nostalgia park. One poor little guy was trudging along, dragging his jack o'lantern...bless his heart. It was great fun just to watch them all traipsing along. -- some were very excited, others were just being drug along by parents -- some were living a dream, and others were living their parents' dream for them. Actually from the looks of some of the older trick-or-treaters -- they were living a nightmare! It was fun to watch them all -- Shane and I were talking about the tradition of trick-or-treating and how it has changed over the years. Interesting how it has evolved. . . fear and hidden dangers have prompted these new forms of trick-or-treating, and I think it is really great that we find ways to save the tradition. I know some Christians have a problem with it, but to me, if anything, for Christians it says, "We do not have to live in fear of you, Satan, or your servants. We're going to turn what you mean for our fear into fun and fellowship -- so there! And so I am really happy that church groups and school groups have started activities like trunk or treat or fall festivals or this safe shopping center trick-or-treating -- where kids still get to dress up and get treats -- it's not so much about the candy; OK, maybe for the kids it really is about the candy right now, but in retrospect it's not -- it's the mystery, the fun, the dressing up, not knowing what someone is going to place in the bucket. . .the chill in the air, the smell of all the candies mingling sweet and tangy and fruity and chocolate and peanut butter, the excitement!. And does it teach them anything bad?? -- I think not, except maybe a little childish greed. I think the bigger lesson that children could learn from Halloween is not to fear, and obviously God thought that was an important lesson, because James tells us "perfect love casts out fear". We have nothing to fear. . .so keep the Halloween fun coming!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
