Something Different - Part 5

Hello FFFs,

It's dark outside. Can you believe the time change is this weekend? Or that it is November? That's crazy. And, while I'm getting excited about Christmas and all the decorating, and books, and music, and such, it doesn't seem right. It can't be almost Thanksgiving, can it? The weather certainly didn't help the feeling any yesterday. It got to around 80º! Not the kind of weather that makes you think Christmas and Thanksgiving.

So, what have I been doing this week? Let me think a minute.

Oh yes.

On Sunday the choir sang for church, then Sis and I went down to the gym early and set up the food for the fellowship meal afterwards. We also had a baby shower for a family in church. The afternoon I spent reading.

Monday was a busy day with getting things done and then my nieces and nephews came over. Even the baby got to come over and spend a little over two hours! He did great. He talked and smiled, laughed with Grammy, took a nap on Papa, and was happy to watch his siblings. We also celebrated Funny Boy's 8th birthday! How can my buddy be 8?

Tuesday I sent out a lot of review copies of my Christmas books to those who are participating in my Blog Tour. (If you have a blog and haven't signed up, but want to, let me know.) I taught writing classes, then worked on other projects. I did get just a little bit of writing in.

Wednesday was one of those days when I just couldn't seem to think, couldn't focus on anything, and didn't want to. So I read. I did get things done in the afternoon, and in the evening I worked as a substitute in Cubbies at church.

Yesterday Mom and I went shopping. We actually were looking for some new Christmas decorations! That was fun! We found some and I'm looking forward to using them and sharing pictures with you all later. I did write last evening and am now ready to get a new Christmas story to my editor.

And that, my dear readers, is a quick look at my week. How was your week?

Something Different

Part 5

    “I don’t know,” replied the first speaker, “but they’ll probably want some outgoing personality type. I mean just think how hard it would be to teach twenty kids all different ages, all at the same time. And no computer.”
    “Yeah, that would be hard. Hey, I wonder if Sharon would be interested. She’s always talking about teaching and has so many ideas. We should make sure she’s seen it.”
    The other nodded and then they turned to leave, saying a casual hi to Lindsay as she stood against the wall as though waiting for someone.
    As soon as they were gone, Lindsay crossed the hall and read the paper. It didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know. But hearing the talk had raised her doubts about getting the position. If someone as vibrant, friendly, and creative as Sharon applied, what chance did she have? Sharon was always a leader in things, and she was outgoing and brimming with ideas on any subject. She could direct twenty children in a one-room school with no trouble at all, of that Lindsay was sure, while she, on the other hand, loved children and worked well with them, but when it came to large crowds or her peers, her confidence vanished.
    The words of Dr. Willman came back and she squared her shoulders. “I’ll just forget about Sharon and everyone else. I’ll do my best on the application and leave the rest up to God.”

    It was mid afternoon before she had a chance to do more than look over the application. She was a little surprised that there was so little about what qualified you to teach. But if that part was lacking, other parts were not. She was requested to tell why she wanted to teach, and what she wanted to get out of it. It also asked her to give an overview of what she thought a typical day in the school would look like under her care. At this she nearly laughed. One of the things she had done over the weekend was research one-room schools and what was taught and when and how. Grateful for the ideas she had gleaned, she started her outline on a blank paper in her notebook. It wouldn’t be perfect, she knew, but it was at least a start. She could rework it later before copying the final version down to hand in.

    Tuesday evening, Abby arrived after a late class to find Lindsay hard at work, papers spread across the table, her shoes kicked off and her hair pulled back in a ponytail.
    “Homework?”
    Lindsay shook her head and scribbled madly for a few minutes. Then she looked up. “No, the application.”
    Abby’s eyes widened. “It takes this much effort to fill out an application to teach in a one-room schoolhouse? Yikes!”
    Glad of an interruption, Lindsay stood up and stretched. “Maybe I am overdoing it a little, but Dr. Willman said I would be up against people from all over the country.” She looked down at the papers. “And I heard today that Sharon is applying.”
    “Sharon Gladstone?”
    “Yep. And if I’m to stand any chance against her, I have to do my very best.”
    For a moment Abby was silent. Setting her backpack beside the couch, she said, “Let me change into something more comfortable and then I’ll come help.”
    Staring at the door that had closed after her friend, Lindsay was dumbfounded. Abby wanted to help her? She knew she had been praying with her about it, but this was different. As soon as Abby came back, Lindsay burst out, “You want to help me? Why?”
    “If you want to teach in that schoolhouse this badly, the least a best friend could do is lend a hand in applying or preparation. Now,” she continued, seating herself in the other chair at the table, “what do I do?”
    For hours the two girls worked. Abby reading over answers, pointing out grammar mistakes, or suggesting better, clearer ways of saying something. Together they made a school schedule, not just of one day, but getting a little carried away, they planned the entire week, which Lindsay then copied in her neatest hand. “I thought of typing it,” she told Abby, who had risen to find something to throw together for supper, “but they didn’t have computers back then, and I thought they might want a sample of my penmanship.”
    “I hadn’t thought of that,” Abby replied. “I wonder if it’ll make a difference. Sandwiches or pizza?”
    “Sandwiches. I don’t want to risk pizza sauce on my papers. I don’t know if it’ll make a difference either. Maybe it’ll hurt my chances.” She frowned. “Perhaps I should send both. It doesn’t say what form to send them in.” Twirling a piece of hair around her finger, Lindsay looked at the schedules she had already copied. “Abby, if I don’t get to teach here, what am I going to do with these schedules and lesson plans? I don’t think I want to just throw them away. Not after all this work.”
    “You could use them in the school play and be the teacher.”
    Lindsay’s eyes grew wide. “No thanks! Dressing up and acting on a stage is not my idea of fun.”
    “Yet you call dressing up and spending a full day teaching a room full of children fun.” And Abby shook her head.

    “Abby, save me a seat,” Lindsay said as the two friends hurried down one of the leaf strewn paths toward their first shared class. “I want to drop these off at Dr. Willman’s office.” And she held up her application, all neatly stapled together as the instructions had said.
    “Why don’t I just wait for you?”
    “Do you mind?”
    Abby shook her head. “Why would I mind? It’s a lovely fall morning.”
    It took only moments to drop off the papers, and then the girls continued on their way. “When are you supposed to hear back?”

Do you have a friend who would help you like Abby helped Lindsay?

Do you ever worry that something could be done better by another person?

Are you getting excited about Christmas?