Anne Sullivan Macy And Others Who Have Inspired Me

I just finished a sort of scrapbook/biography/tribute to Anne Sullivan Macy. I have wanted to do some books like this for awhile -- books that honor people who have meant a lot to me in my life. In some cases, such as this one, the person who is the subject of the book is a 'famous' person. In other cases, the people would be realitively unknown, such as the book I did to honor my grandmother. But in all of these cases, the books are my way of passing their stories on to others, along with specific ways that they have inspired and helped me, so that other people will know who these people were and why their lives were important and meaningful. At least, that is my hope. After all, when I die, the stories I have in my heart will die with me unless I record them somehow. I know that the 'traditional' way of doing this is in a journal. But I happen to like to have pictures and embellishments along with my stories, so they are more like scrapbooks.

At any rate, I have finished the book on Anne Sullivan Macy who was, for those who might not know, Helen Keller's teacher. When I was in the third grade, I found a book about Helen Keller in my school library. To this day, I have no idea what made me want to check it out, but I did and once I started reading it, I was hooked. I clearly remember trying to walk home from school and read the book without falling or bumping into anything because I simply could not wait until I got home to continue with the story. After that, I checked out every book about Helen Keller that the school library, and also the public library in Highland Park, had to offer. I was so captivated by the story of this blind and deaf girl and all that she was able to accomplish. But I knew that, without her teacher, she never would have been able to do it. I began to wonder about this Anne Sullivan who'd come to Helen's rescue and changed her life. I looked for books about Anne and began reading about her. As much as I'd admired Helen Keller, I was even more moved by the story of Anne Sullivan's life.

Anne grew up very poor in Massachussets. Her parents were Irish and had come to America during the Potato famines. Her father was a drunk and wasted what little money they had on alcohol. Her mother had tuberculosis and died when Anne was only 9 years old. Anne had a little brother, named Jimmie, and a baby sister, named Mary. After the death of their mother, Mary was taken in by an Aunt. Anne never saw her again. Anne and Jimmie were left to live with their father, but he was not able to take care of them. Anne had a very bad temper and was very badly behaved. On top of this, she had developed trachoma, a disease of the eye. This was a disease borne of poverty and uncleanliness. Granules developed inside her eyelids and they itched. Every time she scratched, the granules rubbed against her eyeballs and literally scratched her eyes blind. Jimmie had a tuberculin hip and had to walk with a crutch. Nobody in the family wanted to take care of these two, so they were sent to Tewsbury Almshouse, a place filled with the dredges of society: the insane, the criminal, the ill. Anne and Jimmie were the only children in the place and, although inmates were usually separated into the men's and women's sections, Anne would not hear of them being separated from one another. She threw quite the tantrum and they were allowed to stay together. Three months later, Jimmie died of complications from Tuberculosis. Anne lived in Tewsbury for 4 long years; alone and blind in the rat-infested, filthy place. Anne later said, "I doubt if life, or for that matter eternity, is long enough to erase the errors and ugly blots scored upon my mind by those dismal years from 8 to 14."

When Anne was 14, she heard people talking about a group of government officials that were coming to Tewsbury to investigate various allegations against the place. She followed the group around all day as they toured and talked and took notes. Finally, when they were about to leave, Anne threw herself into the middle of the group and cried out, "Please! I want to go to school!" A few months later, arrangements were made for Anne to attend the Perkins Institute for the blind. Anne was completely illiterate and could not even write her own name. She had to start at Perkins in the kindergarten class. The other students and even the teachers made fun of her. But she was determined and worked hard and learned. When she graduated from Perkins, she was named Valedictorian of her class.

Shortly after her graduation she was asked by the head of the Perkins Institute to go to Alabama to be the teacher of a blind and deaf girl named Helen Keller. Helen's parents had written to the institute, desperate for help with their daughter, asking for someone to try to teach her. Anne accepted the job and the rest, as they say, is history.

There are several quotes by Anne that I have included in my book because I think they are particularly meaningful in light of her life and experiences:

"Keep on beginning and failing. Each time you fair, start all over again, and you will grow stronger until you have accomplished a purpose. Not the one you began with perhaps, but one you'll be glad to remember."

"We do not, I think, choose our destiny, it chooses us."

"People seldom see the halting and painful steps by which the most insignificant success is achieved."

It is partly because of Anne Sullivan Macy, and partly because of my Grandmother, that I became a teacher. Their examples encourage me every day, especially when things are hard, to do my best to make a difference.

The Value of True Friends

I have just been 'chastised' by someone who claimed to be my 'friend' because I said I am very glad that the California State Supreme Court has decided to uphold Proposition 8. Frankly, I am not at all surprised by her reaction to my statement and suspect that I will be mocked and shunned by others before all is said and done. Oh well. It never ceases to amaze me how free people feel to call me a bigot, a non-Christian, judgemental, uninformed, and all kinds of other things while THEY live lives that are non-Christian, THEY judge Me, and THEY are bigoted against My values and beliefs. I honestly do not care if adults decide to live their lives a certain way in private. They are old enough to make their own choices and they will be held accountable for them, just as I will be held accountable for mine. But, I will NEVER stand by quietly while these same people feel free to deface the temple of The Lord and mock the true gospel of God. I will NEVER accept that I, as a public school teacher, may be compelled to teach 'alternate lifestyle' lessons to children as young as kindergartners, just so these people can feel they are being treated "fairly." I will NEVER let them equate their so-called "relationships" with my loving marriage. If this looses me friends, so be it. These are the last days. The wheat and the tares are being cut from the fields together, but will soon be sifted. I count the rejection of these types of people as a part of that sifting process.

Well, It Had To Happen Sometime!

I got a call from a member of the Bishopric on Wednesday night, asking if I could come and meet with him and the Bishop. You know, one of those 'friendly' calls that lets you know you are about to get a new calling. So, I went, thinking they were probably going to ask me to be on the homemaking committee (or enrichment, or whatever we're calling it this week!) I'd talked to the homemaking chairman about this a couple of weeks ago and said I'd be happy to help out. So, I was quite surprised when they asked me to be a counselor in the Primary presidency.

Now, I have always said that this is one thing I just don't get about the church: they call you to do the same jobs you already to 5 days a week. If you are in finance, what calling do you have? Ward Financial Clerk! If you are a piano teacher, guess what you do on Sundays? Play the piano for all the meetings, of course! If you are a school teacher, what do they ask you to do? Teach Primary! It's like nobody every thinks, "Gee, they already do that sort of things 5 days a week. Maybe they'd like to do something different here at church." So, I have always feared being called to the Primary. Funny thing, I have not worked in the Primary since I was in high school. It was held on Thursday afternoons back then, so I have no idea how it works on Sundays. I do not know any of the children in the ward. But, I was brought up to always say yes to callings, so I did say I'd be in the Primary presidency. I also told them I would really miss teaching Relief Society. I didn't tell them that the other counselor in the presidency seems like a weirdo to me. I am hoping that, when we get to know each other better, we will get along great. I do like the girl who is the President. She is a very spiritual girl who I have been very impressed with. (By the way, both of those two are in their 30's making me, at the age of 49, the 'grandma' of the group!) And I do believe that she would have prayed about who to ask for as counselors and that she and the Bishop are both inspired people.

Obviously, I am feeling rather mixed about this whole thing.

Good vs. Evil

I had a very creepy experience the other night. I was reading the posts in a chatroom and noticed that someone started posting comments that were very anti-Mormon, talking about polygamy and how Mitt Romney is a 'closet polygamist' and all kinds of things that are not true. I typed in and asked if this person was LDS. He said NO (in capital letters). I began to chat w/ him and ask where he was getting his information. I thought maybe he was just misinformed and I could correct his misconceptions about the church. He said that he was originally from Missouri and he "knows all about the Mormons." I said that maybe he had received information from people who were really against the church. Then, he typed, "My ancestors were part of the group that drove the Mormons out of Missouri." I was taken aback. I asked, "And are you proud of that?" He said, "I'm just telling you how it is." I responded, "So you are proud that your ancestors persecuted innocent people who did nothing wrong and only wanted to exercise their Constitutional right to worship God as they pleased?" He replied, "You just don't understand how things were." That is when I left. It was obvious to me that this was not just some uninformed person who might respond to the truth; he was someone who went into that room to try to stir up trouble and start a fight.

I was taught in the MTC that you never argue with people about the church. The spirit of dissention takes over and the Holy Ghost leaves. You will never convince people of anything by arguing. That is why I left. But it still gave me the creeps and the more I thought about it, the yuckier I felt. As members of the church, we are proud of our heritage. We are proud of our Prophets, and proud of the early saints for the trials that they went through. I realized, after that experience, that there are people alive today who are proud of their ancestors for driving the Mormons away and murdering the Prophet and his brother. There are people who are proud of evil.

I taught Relief Society today. The lesson was on the trials and tribulations that the Prophet Joseph Smith went through in Liberty jail in Missouri and the horrible things that were happening to the Saints during those long months when their leader was encarcerated. Several things happened during the week that could have made me just call the Relief Society Presidency and say, "I'm sorry, I just can't be there on Sunday to teach." I woke up this morning feeling sick. I ate breakfast and took my medicine and I waited. I was very shaky. My blood sugar measurement was fine, so I wasn't sure what the problem was. I resolved to go to church anyway. I kept getting ready to go and my eyes started acting all weird. I could not see through my glasses, even after washing the with soap and water. But I knew I could not drive without my glasses. I didn't know what to do. I called the members of the Relief Society Presidency, but none of them had their cell phones on. (By this time, Sacrament Meeting had already started.) I kept getting ready and trying to figure out what to do about my eyes. I prayed about what I should do. Finally, the time came when I either had to leave so I could get there just in time for Relief Society or I had to do something else. I felt really strongly that I needed to give the lesson, if not for anybody else, then for myself. I felt like Satan was trying to keep me from doing it. I resolved to drive to church and do the best that I could. I said a prayer, asking for protection as I drove, and I left.

I got to church about 2 minutes before Sunday School let out. The Relief Society Preisdency was happy to see me. During the lesson, I was very shaky. I just wanted to sit down. I kept having to take my glasses off and put them back on. But I gave the lesson. I have no idea if it meant anything to anyone else, but it meant a lot to me to finish it. If the pioneers could walk across the United States to get to Utah, I can drive 15 minutes to go to church and do my job. I did not share my online experience during my lesson -- I had thought about it and decided I would share it if I felt moved to do so during the lesson, but I didn't. But, as I described the horrible conditions that the Prophet was subjected to in prision and the awful things the saints endured in Missouri, I thought of that guy and his ancestors. I am certain that, when those people ran the Mormons out of their state, they thought that would be the end of the church. But here we are, over 150 years later, and the church is going strong. As Joseph Smith said, "No un hallowed hand can stop the work from progressing......"

My Sweet Paulina

I have just returned from the vet's office where I had to have my sweet little Paulina put to sleep. She was a beautiful 15-year-old tabby cat. I got her in 1994 when she and her siblings were dumped off in a neighborhood in Van Nuys. My friend, Barbara Groom, caught her and Barbara's neighbor caught Paulina's brother. Sadly, Barbara's cat did not really get along with Paulina, so she called to see if I would like to have her. Although we always had cats in the house when I was growing up, I had not had a cat of my own because Jill (my friend and, often times, my room-mate) was allergic to them. However, Jill was engaged to be married. I figured that, if Jill could get a man, I could get a cat. I told Barbara I'd come over and see the cat. I told her the cat had to be very affectionate and really love me or I would not take her -- I cannot stand cats who do not let me hold them and pet them. Paulina must have known how I felt because she put on quite a performance! She let me hold her and pet her and she purred and licked me. I fell in love immediately and took her home. After a few weeks, she became much more aloof, which was a disappointment to me, but I still loved her.

I did not know what to name her at first. I knew I wanted a name that was bilingual, but I couldn't think of one that was 'good' enough for her. Then, while at work at the Estee Lauder counter at Robinson's-May (a summer job), I stood there looking at the huge photo of Paulina Pourriskova (the official Estee Lauder 'face' at that time) and thought, "She looks like my cat." I knew then what I should name her.

When people saw her, they always commented on how beautiful she was. Often, they'd say something like, "I am not really a cat person, but that is a beautiful cat!" It was true! She was gorgeous! She was very neurotic -- more than the average neurotic cat. She was very shy and would not often let people touch her. She would hide whenever people came over. She would only eat dry cat food -- no canned food, no tender vittles, no kitty treats, nothing else! If she was stressed out, she'd lick her fur off and just leave her naked skin.

Once, I came home from work and realized that something was wrong with Paulina. I think she was having some sort of a heat stroke. She was panting, her tongue was totally dry and bright red, her eyes were glazed. I tried to get her to drink some water, but she wouldn't do it. I was frantic! I thought she was going to die right there in front of me! Finally, the thought came to me to dump her in a tub of water. I put water in the bathtub and dunked her in. She was not at all happy! But, as she began to lick herself dry, she consumed all the water, and it seemed to help. I dunked her a second time, just for good measure. She was fine after that and I was grateful to have been able to save her life.

When we moved to Sunland, I was shocked at how hard she took it. After all, she'd lived with someone when she was born, then been dumped in Van Nuys, then lived with Barbara, then lived with me in Glendale. I figured she was used to moving around. But, the minute I let her go in our new apartment in Sunland, she ran and hid. I did not see her for weeks. I would hear her at night, walking around and around, all over the apartment, meowing and meowing. If I turned on the light, she'd hide again. I tried just talking to her and trying to sooth her, but she would not come to me at all.

When I brought home my other cat, Gilbert, Paulina was furious with me. She did not try to do anything to Gilbert, but she tried to scratch and bite the living daylights out of me. If I came near her, she'd bare her teeth, her claws, she'd growl and arch her back, and just show me how very unhappy she was. I'd thought that, being a female, she might feel a bit 'motherly' towards this little kitten with the broken leg. Nothing could have been further from the truth! I don't know that she ever totally forgave me for that.

When Roger and I met and got married, he told me he was "not a cat person." He is still not that fond of Gilbert, but he and Paulina bonded! She was his baby and he was her daddy. She adored him. She would sleep on the bed with him, let him pet her, and wanted his attention whenever she could get it. It was just as hard for Roger to have to let her go as it was for me.

I left Paulina's rhinestone collar on her for her to be burried in -- every girl needs her bling. But I took her little nametag to keep. Roger and I will miss her a lot and, although he would not want to admit it, I think Gilbert will miss her a lot too. Goodbye, my sweet Paulina. Sleep in heavenly peace. We love you!

Good For You, Miss California!

All over the internet today was the news that Miss California was not chosen as "Miss U.S.A." Supposedly, she had been in the lead, but 'blew it' on the big question and answer phase of the competition. When asked her feelings about same-sex marriage, she basically said that she thinks that marriage should only be between a man and a woman. She said she did not mean to offend anyone; but that's how she was raised and that's what she believes. After the pageant was over, people were actually getting into shouting matches in the lobby, over Miss California's comments. She was villified online on blogs, in chatrooms, and on video. She was called profane names and even the co-chairman of the Miss California organization released a statement expressing her "disappointment" in her. (Way to be supportive, huh?) Yet, she says she has no regrets; that she gave an honest answer and was true to herself. So much for the stereotype of the 'blonde bimbo.' If I could say anything to Miss California, I'd say, "Good for you!" Good for you for being honest, even in the glare of the spotlight of a national television broadcast. Good for you for not backing down, even when others criticize and mock you. Good for you for placing more value on your own morals and standards than on a sparkly tiara and a satin sash. I don't remember who actually did win -- one of the Carolina's, I think. But I know who has the greater reward.

Happy Birthday to Me! What Should I Wish For?

Well, today is my birthday. I swear I almost forgot that it was until my husband came home from work this morning and said, "Happy Birthday!" to me. I am 49. In one more year, I will be 50! (And they say I can't do math! HA!) I am old! Yet, I do not feel old. I do not feel like a high school or college girl, but I do not feel like someone who's at least halfway through her life, either. I am grateful for many things, though, and thought I'd write about them here. I am grateful to have a wonderful husband -- a blessing I NEVER thought I'd actually have. I am grateful to have a home (however, unorganized and cluttered and frustrating it is!) and a reliable car and a good job. I am grateful that we have enough money to be able to pay our bills each month without worrying too much. There are months that are harder and months that are easier but, for the most part, we do not struggle as many others we know do. I am grateful to be an American, even if I am sorely disappointed in the choice of President that most of my fellow Americans made last fall. It is and, hopefully, will always be the greatest country on earth. I am grateful to be able to feel that I have made a difference in at least a few of my students' lives throughout the years I've been teaching. (some that come to mind are: Omar De La Cruz, Krystal Villanueva, Krystal Rodriguez, Marco Rodriguez, and Alexa Valle -- and those are only ones I've had here in the Valley, not from before I moved here.) I am very grateful for good friends, who love and support me. I am grateful to feel more accepted and a part of my ward -- not an easy thing, but I've finally "arrived", it seems. I am grateful for my calling as a Relief Society teacher. I am grateful for my talents and the joy it brings me to create things, sing, sew, etc. I am grateful for pets -- my Gilbert and Paulina -- and the joy they bring me. I am grateful to not be allergic to animals. I am grateful for the gospel in my life and for my testimony and for all that being a member of the church has brought to my life. I am grateful for my Grandma -- I know that anything good about me, ultimately came from her, including my ability to sew, teach, sing, etc. I am grateful to have known Roger's mom and for the ease with which we told each other "I love you" each and every time we saw one another. I am grateful for all I've learned and seen as I've travelled with Roger all over the United States. So......as I contemplate all of these wonderful blessings -- many more, I know, than I deserve -- I have really nothing to wish for as I blow out my birthday candles except for the wish that I may be more righteous and more worthy of all that I have been given and more responsible for all that I have stewardship over. So, bring on the cake! I'm ready! (But you may want to stand by with a fire extinguisher, just in case! 49 is a lot of candles!)

OK, So Now I Am A Blogger

Lynne told me about having a blog and suggested that I start one. She said she thought I'd be really good at it. (Obviously, she knows that flattery works with me!) So here I am, trying to be a blogger. How am I doing so far? (Does anybody remember the themesong to the Gary Shandling Show? That always cracked me up!)