Janet's Blog

It's been forty years (gasp) since the Fairbury High School Class of 1973 graduated.  I've heard it said that "you can't go back again."  Well, this past weekend, around seventy of my high school classmates, along with quite a few accommodating spouses, tried, quite successfully. Class reunions seem to produce a myriad of emotions: apprehension ( What will they think of me? ) excitement ( We get to re-connect with old friends! ) trepidation ( Will I fit in?  Did I ever?  And, what should I wear? )  curiosity ( What are they doing now? ) I know that some classmates refuse to attend reunions for a variety of reasons.  After all, adolescence can be such a hard time for so many teens; some people just don't want to re-visit a time that may have been very difficult for them.  Those who have moved far away may feel like they no longer have anything in common with the classmates they knew so long ago.  And some may worry that they aren't successful enough or

I'm feeling a little brain-dead, barely motivated to sit down and write this blog.  Since school started almost a month ago, I've hardly had time to breathe.  When can I get off this endless merry-go-round of home visits, preschool classes, assessments, meetings, and appointments?  My morning class is a challenge, overflowing with high needs kids.  Some days, I barely sit down until lunch, when my aides and I just sit and eat, and sometimes hardly talk at all, because we are so exhausted.  My afternoon class is a little smaller, a little older, and a lot less needy, comparatively speaking, but I still need to be on my toes to keep up with them.  So, when I get home from school, I don't feel much like dealing with Levi's latest antics or Victoria's newest drama.  How I wish I could borrow some of my students' excess energy!  Have you noticed that four-year-olds rarely walk anywhere?  Instead, they run, gallop, hop, crawl, bounce, dance, twirl their way across a

Years ago, when my Grandma Vawser visited us in Michigan, I remember that she was so eager to worship with us at the Friends Church in Traverse City.  And, afterwards, she raved about the hymnal that was used there, the All-American Church Hymnal , because it contained so many hymns that she had known and loved her entire life.  It was always very difficult for Bill and me to decide what to get our grandparents for Christmas, so we were thrilled to order a copy of that hymnal for her from our local Christian bookstore, and mail it to her for Christmas.  It probably cost only two or three dollars, and postage was only a dollar or two then, so we certainly didn't spend much.  But we were happy to make her happy. I didn't realize what an impact that gift had made until after Grandma died many years later.  When her belongings were divided among her numerous children and grandchildren, that hymnal made its way back to me.  It was immediately apparent that she had used th