Trash for Treasure

     It's been raining since about seven-thirty this morning. That sums up what it has been like every day since the end of November. I can remember only one day that it didn't rain since then. Mostly it's just on and off hard rain, but sometimes it lasts for hours, going from hard to light and back again. Something strange that I've noticed, though, is that almost every night at eleven it rains so hard I almost can't hear myself think. It's mesmerizing, really. The combination of pounding rain, strong winds – whipping my drying (yeah right) clothes hanging outside my door, – and darkness. The only way I see it all is because of the large lamp across the driveway at the Pastor's house. With it I can see the wind driving the rain in sheets across the lit up puddles – or lake. Much of the time the driveway becomes one continuous puddle that the rain drops jump from. Like I said, it's mesmerizing.

     The second quarter has ended now. My mind wasn't able to settle down fully until yesterday. It ended on the fourteenth. Then the school Christmas program was on Monday, and I was the director of our little skit. So, I'm no longer worrying about something (for now), and I can sit down and collect the thoughts of my past four weeks since writing.

     On the thirtieth of last month I received four packages all at once. The mail hadn't been checked the week before, and I know that at least two of them had arrived then. Two from home, one from Amy, and the regular bi-weekly pack from WWU. In the two packs from home I received a good amount of candy. It was making up for the Halloween that I missed, from what I was told. Now don't get me wrong, I do like candy. But so much left to one person, well, I'd get carried away, eating it far too quickly. I decided on a more fun and … helpful way to use it up.

     Each week I put up a new Bible verse for the kids to memorize. On Friday, if they recite it to me from memory, they get a piece of candy (gum usually). I could use my candy instead of buying some at the store. So, on the Friday after receiving those boxes I told the kids, at eleven-thirty with thirty minutes until the bus was to arrive, that I have some candy from home for them if they recite the verse. Then I told the kids that if they find me ten pieces of trash, at least baseball sized, they will get a piece of candy.

     Now you must understand something. Before about the 1950s the island was still eating mostly local food, probably supplemented somewhat by rice. Whatever they were eating they could simply toss by the wayside. Their bowls were mostly made from coconuts, and most of them were still eating with their fingers. After WWII the US started helping them in different ways, trying to help them recover from the Japanese occupation. This resulted in packaged goods finding their way over here. Unfortunately, because trash was never an issue since it was always biodegradable, they kept tossing their trash wherever they opened it. You can probably guess what I'm getting at: there is quite a bit of visible trash. When the kids are done eating their ramen bowls for lunch, they usually toss them into the bushes, sometimes not even that far. They do have community dumps now, thankfully, but most of the kids haven't been taught that littering is bad.

     Now that you have some background information, their was plenty of trash around the school, church, and local house. Like I said, we stopped thirty minutes early, and I figured that most of the kids would do it only once. (Eleven kids times ten pieces of trash equals 110; I can live with that.) Boy, was I wrong. One kid had unintentionally grabbed six extra. I told him that if he grabbed four more that he would get two pieces of candy. Then as that kid was getting two candies another would walk up with just ten pieces of trash and say, “What? We can get more?” They didn't realize that they could keep doing it, one candy for each ten pieces of trash. I think Larry, alone, ended up getting a total of at least fifteen pieces of candy. Larry just kept going. He would come back with ten and see someone getting two at once. Then he would cash in and go back, motivated – by jealousy, envy, or a competitive nature, I would guess – to get more. His last batch was exactly 70. He was aiming for 80 to get all eight pieces of Stride gum left in the pack. I took out one and then gave him the pack. We must of filled three 44 gal. trash cans!

     The older grades saw this candy giving with mouths agape. I told them, “Get me ten pieces of trash this big (insert baseball sized hand motion) and you'll get one.” They hopped to. Marvin got 50 and then went back and grabbed 62 before collecting eleven pieces of candy. I also made them put the trash in the cans and wash their hands before reaching into the bag of candy. It was such a great thing to witness, really, the power of candy and the kids really wanting to pick up trash. Some were searching hard, digging around in bushes away from the beaten path. Around the local house and the grass in between it and the church were the worst places. They looked so great afterwards. The grass had honestly looked like an overgrown, unburned trash pile. Now, you can't see any trash in the grass. I could tell much of the trash that they were getting was months, even years old. Old sandals, ramen bowls, plastic spoons and cups, and many other things. I willingly gave up almost all of my candy. Like I said, it was great to witness an eagerness, or rush to get more trash, even if it was motivated by candy.

     After recalling this interesting happening to a couple different people I saw a different side to it: an amazing spiritual analogy. Jesus came to take our burdens from us. Among the normal burdens that we bear – distress about grades, enough money, that job, or the latest thing that girl/guy (that you like) said to you – sin is the heaviest. Yes, it is broad, but there it is, looking us right in the eyes everyday.

“²⁸Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. ²⁹Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. ³⁰For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” Matthew 11:28-30.

     Not only is He asking us to give up our burdens, but He is saying that he will give us rest in return. He will give us peace for our… trash. Now if that isn't the best, and most honest sales pitch I've ever heard, I don't know what is. A song from my Pathfinder days finds its way into my mind, as well. “I'm trading my sorrows, I'm trading my shame, I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord...”

     Let's remember to deal with the best Trader and get us some candy.

Considering My Thank-Yous

      So, I fully intended to write this Thursday (Thanksgiving) and instead wrote it last Saturday. I even started on it but other things got in the way. No such things as excuses, right, just poor planning? I embrace that sound logic and it is definitely true in this instance. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving … two days ago, or whenever this happens under your eyes.

I made a peanut butter cream-type filling.

      I was planning all week to make soup for Thursday night. I was actually planning on making a large pot and taking it to one of my local families. Sadly, they were all busy and doing things other places. It didn't really bother me, except that I really wanted to cook for some people.

      While making the soup for myself I was reviewing the things I should and am thankful for. You see, I had busied my mind all day with mindless things. I'm thankful for the normal/usual things: family, close friends, God, and Amy. Locally, the opportunity I have and am within and the kind people it brings. Stepping back to the end of the last paragraph, I was reminded of the person who instilled such a desire: to cook for people; to really like it and even so far as to desire to cook for many people. A desire that's quenched by seeing the joy the people get from eating the food prepared. As taught, I know that joy can be revealed in many, different, and subtle ways.

Just get creative.

      This person, a crazy-strange Hawaiian-Asian, who is shorter than I yet commands a greater presence quite easily. A man who has been known to cause fear in adults and reverence in children (not by physical means, mind you) – that's who I have to thank for the love of cooking, the craving to cook for people. Four years ago I couldn't sauté onions, crack an egg with one hand, cut watermelon safely, or fathom being able to make pizza sauce from scratch. At least three of those may seem rather easy, but nor could I comprehend making a well-received curry, finding it easy to cook for ninety alone, being a head cook, or being apart of the management team for my childhood retreat, Big Lake Youth Camp. Considering all of this, and that he is counted among the great friends that I mentioned earlier, I am specifically thankful for John Rivera in this moment.

This isn't normal, but it's welcomed.

      I suppose I haven't mentioned anything of my class, yet. I also must be thankful for them. Twelve kids in all, five 3^rd and seven 4^th graders; only a quarter of the class is girls. If they've taught me anything thus far, it's patience and creativity for coming up with different angles of attack – not in the physical sense, of course, but the... intangible: the way in which I teach them things. It's probably against some law to mention their names here, so know that they are all different and good in their own way and (a lot of the time) at their own leisure. From eight-thirty in the morning until three they are mine. Bible, Math, English, Science, (Lunch), Social Studies, Spelling, Reading, and PE. Math and English are the most hassle because they have different books for each grade. Science and Social are the hardest for me to get them to retain.

One of my kids tree-climbing.

      One thing that caused me much stress was getting here late. It couldn't be prevented from happening, but that doesn't lessen its effect in any way. I arrived here half way through first quarter and you can imagine the complications that caused in teaching kids that were already adjusted to a teacher for the year. Not only that, but the teacher had a completely different teaching style than I. Of course, not as if I had a teaching style, seeing that I'd never taught before. As clichéd as the analogy is, I really had to train old dogs new tricks. I'm still battling with their old habits, but they are learning. As time goes on, I add new rules that I come up with myself or have pulled from The Essential 55 by Ron Clark (brilliant teacher). My creativity was really activated after reading that book.

They really like to collect them.

      One of the things that struck me as silly, or foreign, was the fact that they rarely had homework. When I say rarely, I mean once every two weeks – maybe. I've broken that for the most part, but I still get an exclaimed we! (kind of like “whey” but less on the “ay” and more on the “eh”) every now and then. According to their dictionary it is an “exclamation of repentance or surprise.” So, basically whenever they don't like something I hear it. This just causes me to laugh sinisterly under my breath. Cruel, right? Another humorous thing I hear frequently, used as a form of complaining about assigned work, “We're tired!” “Well, I guess you should've slept more last night.” It's a hard life, right? Honestly, all I can do is smile (=]). My hope is that they will be better kids when they finish in May, both scholastically and in dealing with life's different circumstances. By the time that is achieved, I'm sure the kids will have taught me, or ingrained in me, many important lessons. For that, I'll be forever thankful.