Post Mail Friend

One of my 4th grade students, Carol, wrote this brilliant story about friendship and goodbyes. She made it up all on her own! I asked her if she got this idea from another book and she said no. Insightful kid! So I asked if I could share her story with some of my friends...
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Keith (pronounced Kathe) is a student. She is very brave. And she has many friends. Her best friend is Jane. They always do something together.

(One day) on Sunday night, Jane called Keith, "Keith, I will go to Canada. Now, I'm so exciting!"
"That's great. What else? Nothing? Ok, bye."

That night, Keith couldn't sleep. 'Can I do well without Jane?'

Next day, in school, Jane wasn't there. A month had gone by, but Jane didn't come back. 'I thought Jane was going to Canada for a few weeks!'

The school ended. Keith ran home. The telephone rang. It was Jane. "I'm sorry, Keith. I have to live here forever."

Keith hung up the phone quietly. It was too terrible to Keith. 'What should I do?'

At night Keith only thought and thought and thought. 'All right, let's think.' A few minutes had gone by. 'Right! A vacation! I have vacation tomorrow! Today is Monday.'

But mother said, "You can't, Keith. We don't have money." Yes, that was a problem. Keith had to think more.

Now, she had an idea, a strange idea.

'Can I get into the post mail?'

Why not? Keith could do anything to meet Jane. She decided to do it one Tuesday. She told mother, "I will sleep in someone's house on Wednesday."

Now, it was Tuesday. Keith bought everything she needed. Keith knew that on Tuesday, Mom will send every post. She got inside and wrote, "Jane Sarah, Canada, Green Village 16-26."

Mom was thinking that Keith had gone to her friend's house. It was the perfect chance. Mom said, "Why is this post too heavy?" But because of the paper that said, "Important, easy to break," Mother didn't open it.

Finally the post arrived.

Jane opened it. She was excited but she didn't know why.

"Keith!" "Oh, Jane, I missed you." Jane hurried to take Keith to the room.

"Oh, Keith, how could you?"

"I just thought and thought," she smiled. "I just wanted to say goodbye and give you a present." The present was a beautiful necklace.

"Oh, it's pretty. And...bye, my friend, Keith. I'll send you back home."

Next day, she went home.

"I'm home, Mom!" "I know, I know, what did you do?" "Um...just...play," she smiled.

Weekend with Melissa

Dig

'"I always look at that well there in the plaza. And I think to myself that before, no one knew where there was water. Then Saint Savin decided to dig and found it. If he hadn't done that, this village would be down there by the river."

"But what does that have to do with love?" I asked.

"That well brought many people here, with their hopes and dreams and conflicts. Someone dared to look for water, water was found, and people gathered where it flowed. I think that when we look for love courageously, it reveals itself, and we wind up attracting even more love. If one person really wants us, everyone does. But if we're alone, we become even more alone. Life is strange."'

Excerpt from By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept, by Paulo Coelho

School

Our academy moved across the street to a much larger space this past week. Now the rooms are more spacious and sound-proof so we hear less high-pitched chantings of our phonics learners. Right now, we only have an after-school program but things are slowly falling into place and in the next year or so, plans are to establish an independant school for Koreans who want private education in English without leaving the country. This way, families do not have to be separated. We just need grounded teachers to jump-start this dream. I love that I work for an unconventional boss and can be part of teaching and learning that doesn't have to follow all the rules.

There's an opening for a part-time art teaching position at a different international school about 40 minutes from home. If I get the position, I may be teaching art to middle school students. I'd love that but I don't plan to stretch myself too thin...maybe I can go in 2 mornings a week, and get a taste of what it's like to be an art teacher in a school setting.

I love teaching my first-graders story-telling through Cray-pas and water-color. But I'm itching to do more than that...

I never thought I'd be teaching art to children, helping to establish a school, living in Korea, as well as considering settling down here, and loving it, what in the world? As they say, life never happens the way you plan.

Reconnecting

Yong Jun came out for his second vacation leave and it's been a good time so far. Met up with Steve and Rendy last night and reminisced the good old days, been having some good relaxed family time, etc etc. Wish he could stay longer but he leaves tomorrow.


I can't believe that Melissa is flying in to Seoul in just one week. I'm so excited to catch up with her. She asked me what I was craving that she could bring from America. To be honest, I don't really know, except my friends over there. I wish she could fit them all in her suitcase. Actually, I don't miss anything about the US except for these people. Everything else, I have here. I'm quite comfortable life here now, getting around places is easy, nature is all around me even in the middle of the city, I have my own space I can create however I want, I have family, yummy healthy food, a great church, a stimulating job, new friends, etc etc.

Did I just jinx myself by saying all this? Seems to be the pattern as I've seen so far is that I can't ever get too comfortable in one place. Once I do, it's time to leave. Oh well, that's not happening yet so I might as well enjoy it now. I appreciate the adventure that it is to combine all parts of me, years before with what I am now, and what I can look forward to or brace myself for in the future.

Life is an adventure and although I don't have all the people I love near me at all times, it's comforting to know that they still stay a part of me no matter where we are placed in the world. And every once in a while, like with Melissa and Yong Jun, I can see them and enjoy moments with them. And, of course, with those of you I'll see later rather than sooner, there's always cyberspace that keeps us somewhat connected and growing together.

Pirates III

Johnny Depp and insanity: just fabulous. In another life, I'd have chosen a career in Hollywood. I'm in awe with all the artistic talent out there.

Rolling

"They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor." Is. 61.3

I roll under and over. The display is being rolled and on a day when it plants into shape, you and I will see splendor larger than oak. Until then, I choose this season. I will submit to grinding and wetting, it stings, until glory buds from sunshine that will dry what has been cried over, and dusts, fine and gold, will fly to become a "display of his splendor."

We will hope. We will believe. We roll with hope and belief, under and over.

April

I have a new favorite color: yellow green, especially on trees~ I saw them everywhere this weekend and will see it everyday this spring~ for the first time since tenth grade I am living inside four seasons and it couldn't be better timing to illustrate all that's been kneaded inside me~ life, for the past month and a half, has made enough sense for me to love yellow green~ behind or after the dripping sweat, falling beauty, and cold shivers, there always exists this mix of yellow and green which strokes in hope. So an update on life this April:

~Started dance classes (mainly jazz) with a friend from church, going every morning at a ridulously early hour, sore thighs but lovin it.

~Making new friends and ~already saying goodbye to some of those new friends, what else is new in my life, but still trying to soak up every part of it!

~Saw Yong Jun this weekend, he may end up in Iraq or Lebanon in the next few months.

~God is real to me again. I see yellow green because of him.

~Continuing my painting lessons with Grandma and becoming her friend.

~Running again.

~Getting more involved with church

~Still resting and waiting on direction on what to pursue...

~Missing many of you.

Yes, The Year of the Lord's Favor

Isaiah 61:1-4

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
because the Lord has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,

to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,

and provide for those who grieve in Zion--
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor.

They will rebuild the ancient ruins
and restore the places long
devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
that have been devastated for
generations.

XX Trip to America XX

I decided to risk a rejection and apply for a visitor's visa to the US. It's worth it to me to try to see Katie get married in July. Cross my fingers, pray to God, I am hoping to be interviewed by someone who will see that I'm no fraud trying to squeeze my way into the pool of "illegal aliens."

So if all goes well, I will be involved with the wedding July 21st-28th, then after that, for about 3 weeks, I'm considering taking a roadtrip across the country starting in CA. I haven't made any decisions regarding my destination points or budget, but my two goals for the trip are to reconnect with old friends and make an art tour out of it. Some states I'm considering are...OR, WA, CA, CO, TX, IL, IN, FL, DC, and NY. So I'll be in touch with some of you to see if I can crash at your place;);)...I'd love to see you!!!

Lots of planning to do...if you're familiar with roadtrip planning, I'd gladly take some wisdom from you!

Chastisement

I'll call him Sam, a student of mine. Last night, while matching antonyms to words from a novel, Sam kept whining that he couldn't concentrate. Finally, I asked him what was on his mind. He was going to be chastised (one of the words we were learning) today in school by his teacher. Apparently, she had asked him a question and because he didn't hear her the first time he turned to his classmate sitting next to him and asked, "뭐래?" (What did she say?). Teacher thought he had failed to use the polite version of the question, and she told him that he would be punished today. The punishment would take form in one of two ways. He would either be asked to join 30 other delinquents in doing one thousand and six hundred squats (bending the knees down and up) or wearing a sunflower in his hair and SKIPPING in and out of all the classrooms. After my laughing fit, I told him that she was probably just threatening him so he would pay attention to her for the rest of the day. But like him, I'm not so sure...these Korean teachers carry bizarre philosophies and methods for classroom control. I'll just have to wait and see if Sam comes into the academy limping or with an orange face from a mixture of yellow sunflowers and red blushing.

sifting

She met him when cuticles didn't hurt anymore and
the world seemed to her a sifted white
of tasted forgiveness. She forgot meetings like these were alive.

And they connected, to her like the weight
of magnet she hardly recognized with her past. Her chest
beat faster than a heart.
A heart still layered, but her scales of tin dropping,
once twice. Until

he pressed her back with his hands of man, melted,
we became shame of falling hair of night. Repeated.
Then she saw her cries muted inside his neck,
you couldn't hear me, behind sweat
dropping on white, white losing color, as
he moved her like that. STOP.
And he left.

Two days, she talked to him with the voice that was
gathered for her by wood nail and blood,
and he told her he felt like shit and
she, inner thighs, calmed because she heard
an apology, not vague as men before
no, he was sorry, deeply grieved, and

I hurt, forgiving, for this time she knew how to
forgive, quickly. A goodbye I could cup and free.

~

The white is still sifted, and she knows
what is
pure,
cuticles, pulled and bleeding with flesh, cut today and washed for healing,
this time with her back,
standing and waving flags. This, she remembered childhood stories of gowns.

Blood wet then dried, peeled and clean. I will remember new.

I'm a driver again

I just got my Korean driver's license. Public transportation is a beautiful thing here but not so convenient at times.

Back to my crazy driving...

Koreans, keep your Korean names please.

We have a new group of kindergarteners that I don't have to teach, thank goodness. During their water break, I asked the name of one of the girls. RABBIT, she said. I almost burst out in laughter. But I just said "REALLY?" ... "REALLY?" ... "REALLY?" like four times.

Oh, another boy's name is SONIC.

Another of Katie's

For you

When it all began a while ago
I first noticed the way your hair fell beneath your shoulders
like a mane of white petals
We traveled places together, and shared water
until there was nothing but blood between us

I've loved you in a way that makes no sense
in a way of snow on tree limbs, falling leaves,
changing winds
Your voice will sing many songs left
to stitch the wounds only you know are there
in the world

By Kathryn Tschabold

Katie's words

A best friend of mine, Katie Tschabold, arranges her life and words in ways that pierce my tear sockets. I just spent a good two hours reading and crying over her new creation, "Leaving the Apiary." I'm posting a couple from the selection. I love this woman, I would not be living so fully without her friendship. I miss you, Katie!

A letter

I try to tell her
the space between you and I is tinier
than her fingernails, or the way she closes her eyes
when sun rises through the window on noon's elbows
Tinier, even, than the teeth she waits for,
patiently, night the same as day, another hour to sleep or
wake for food, my breast, amazement

Earthly things are soil and planting the
question of breakfast, long minutes waiting for coffee
my brewer old and sputtered like a drowning fish
And still I think the space between us is nothing

I've made thousands of cups without you
taken steps, closed my front door, waited for
change, a paycheck, clouds to rain
I've seen rainbows and a man's hunched shoulders, praying
women, none as honest as you were to me
when there was nothing between us
but a door

When you visit
flying over Montana, or Oregon,
alone, or with you own baby,
will you hair be longer than now or short and firm,
closer than your arms are to your sides,
or will they be open and will nothing be between us
the space tiny as it always was
like a child

By Kathryn Tschabold

Time to post some pictures...

at the pusan film festival


passing out christmas presents at the orphanage, Angel House


celebrating the end of winter intensive, some of my students:)

The Mr. Yummy

I meant to post some of these pictures a while back when we had our visit with Yong Jun. I miss him a lot!

I'll be quoting from Madeleine L'Engle a lot...

"Until I tell God what I want, I have no way of knowing whether or not I truly want it. Unless I ask God for something, I do not know whether or not it is something for which I ought to ask, and I cannot add, 'But if this is not your will for me, then your will is what I want, not mine.' The prayers of words cannot be eliminated. And I must pray them daily, whether I feel like praying or not. Otherwise, when God has something to say to me, I will not know how to listen. Until I have worked through self, I will not be enabled to get out of the way."

Madeleine L'Engle, Walking on Water, p. 24.

e. e. cummings...

i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday, this is the brith
day of life and love and wings; and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth
...
now the ears of my ears are awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened