I’ve been struggling with what to reveal about this unforeseen charitable event I’ve fallen into, and some of it came after a conversation with my friend Juli after she sent me a check in the mail. I began to wonder all sorts of things about next steps. What do people expect from me after sending in money? I most certainly cannot take pictures of the kids because it’s unethical for me to post photographs of students, especially if they’re minors.

Another issue is whether or not they feel comfortable being photographed not to mention the fact that it would appear that I’m somehow getting something out of taking pictures of them and posting them. Would photographing them seem a gratuitous move?

What if they’re embarrassed receiving gifts from me and a group of people? Even Mallory suggested we show up and give them gifts on their doorstep to which I replied, “I don’t really want the recognition. I don’t need to hear a thank you.”

Then, there is the issue of getting receipts to people which I suggested in the unbelievable discourse of e-mail exchange that’s been going on lately. Many people replied that it wasn’t necessary, that they’re fine with the children getting what they need and don’t require “proof.”

In continuing my conversation with Juli on the phone, it even came up that I could have them write thank you notes and then post them online. In one regard, that could be the “receipt” for people. But forcing them to write notes just so that I could put them online would seem as if I still expected something from them in return. Yet, I’m not in charge of making people feel thankful. I can at least tell you this much: when Tiffany went shopping with my friend Carrie yesterday while I was out sick, she was very appreciative. Carrie made sure to tell me that Tiffany wanted me to know how grateful she was to be getting new clothes.

Karma is some good stuff, you know that? I knew I contacted the perfect person to take her shopping when Carrie e-mailed me to say that she found a $10 gift certificate to JCPenney that would expire this weekend. Then, when she went over the amount by about $20, Carrie kicked in and refused to let me give her more money even though I had more from donations that continue to come in the mail. Last night I got an mesage from Jean that she’s sending me a gift certificate for teacher supplies and I’m handing it right over to Carrie.

Some of things I bought with the money can be seen in a set of flickr pictures here. Other things I bought online from a Target e-card are pictured below, even though they haven’t all been delivered yet. Since I wanted them to have some choice in the matter, each one also got a $50 gift card to Target in case they wanted to purchase gifts for friends and family. Gift cards are wonderful things, aren’t they? The gas cards for Donnell will come in handy, too.
All this buying and wrapping and positive energy really is sustaining me through this nasty bug that’s knocked me on my ass the last few days. It started small and has turned into something quite phenomenal. $127 plus a lotta internet love equals a donation total that requires a comma which will provide for a student fund that will continue. It is my hope that I can highlight a student each month to help with the selling of t-shirts and coffee mugs.

Maybe it’s simple, but while I was home sick these last few days I caught an episode of Mr. Rogers that seemed to get me RIGHT HERE. My head was pounding and I needed a soothing voice while spread out on the couch surrounded by tissues and medicine. He said, “It gives people a really good feeling to share what they have. Especially when the person you’re sharing it with really loves what you give. It’s like…they really love you.”

I’ve never loved a comma so much in my life. Thank you. Merry Christmas.

For Christian:

For Donnell:

For Tiffany:

Whatever it was that I had in mind when I started this is a faint memory now. It began as a challenge to myself and there was the added bonus of being held accountable to a community of people. I am a wealthy woman, indeed.

It ended up being something entirely altered with the outpouring of support. Each time today became unbearable at work I thought about this again. No one could take this feeling from me. Not the arguing students in the hallway or the work that piled up as I perused work e-mails that needed answering or the bitchy person who has been trying to engage me in a confrontation. Not that I’m not concerned about her because I am fairly certain, in light of recent events, that she sleeps upside down.

Even she couldn’t take this away from me.

There are a few movies I watch that get me every. single. time. You know the ones. It doesn’t matter how many times you see a scene, you feel the powerful emotions associated with it each time afterward when you view it again.

When the crowd cheers for Rudy as he goes onto the football field.

When Ray calls out, “Hey… Dad? Wanna have a catch?” in Field of Dreams.

When Harry toasts his brother in It’s A Wonderful Life.

Thinking on these things, I wonder if everyone does this. Yet, it quickens my brain to wonder about all the people who continue to want to help. Yesterday I had to stay on top of my e-mail or else I would have been swamped with returning messages. Each time I wonder, “Who are these generous souls? Why have they willingly and effortlessly raised their hands to shout ‘I WANT TO HELP’ so easily? What did I say that struck a nerve?”

No matter what I’m doing when those movies are on, I will stop it to watch those scenes and it will break me up each time. It’s not as if I don’t know what’s going to happen. On the contrary, I do. I wait for it to take me over and make me feel like I felt the first time I experienced the movie.

It is that letting the feeling take me over bit that I can see coming. Each time I opened a message from someone yesterday I knew it was happening and could see into the future when their letters will come and there is a sense that I will turn into a watery puddle as envelopes are gingerly held in my hands knowing that selflessness and love both contributed to it traveling to me. Getting it to the kids who need will be the very thing that smothers me in that good stuff, continuing to make me wealthy.

May you be smothered, too.

You make me cry. You make me believe, once again, in humanity. You spur me on to want to do more. You prove me wrong when I start to believe that people don’t care.

You do that. YOU.

Thank you. I’m donating $127 to the Donnell and Christian and Tiffany Fund. Two people are matching me. Others are sending me more e-mail to see where they can send things.

Thank you for touching me deeply.

When I have time to do nice things for people, I really try to do them. Othewise, I come across as lazy and uncaring and that only works for me if you’re paying me a salary with benefits. Then, I don’t care so much.

C’mon. You know me by now. That just can’t be true. Why else would I choose to teach in a low-income school as opposed to the high-end private school where I previously taught. In truth, I got what I wanted to out of that job: experience. Having Mallory as a student for two years was great, too. (Of course, she needs to write her own blog on that escapade to get an honest look at how that worked out.) At one time, I realized that I spent 55 uninterrupted minutes with other people’s children and I wanted to have my own in my class to teach them the exciting things that the other students got to learn. (Yes. I’m an exciting teacher. Rather, I’m excited. Someone once called me a “whirling dervish” when he observed my teaching style.) For once, I drove to work with all three of my kids in tow and we were always in the same building. It also allowed me to meet Allen and when I consider all I learned from him… well, he would have made it worth it if they paid me in peanuts.

Witnessing the hardships that poor students go through is enough to make me take a mental health day once in a while. Being nice to those students who may never see another person smile all day long is rewarding. Teachers aren’t in this for the money. If they don’t get the fundamental intrinsic recompense, then they are pilfering their life away and should find another career quickly.

It’s not the money. It’s the relationships with people. Young people. Honest-to-God real people whose thoughts are always right there. There’s no hiding how they feel at times and when they learn something you have struggled to teach them and you physically see their face light up because they have FINALLY UNDERSTOOD A CONCEPT that you struggled with getting them to understand, you know your heart will be blown to bits by the forthcoming smile. Sometimes, there’s squealing and jumping up and down.

If you weren’t a whirling dervish prior to this, you certainly are now.

Because a student has GOTTEN IT.

Yet, I know they must go home to cold houses, poor meals, and responsibilities that their young bodies accept without question simply because they have to do so.

At this time of year it seems that we always start sending e-mails to one another. Some of them are humorous and holiday-related like the cards I’ve been sending people from the Time Waster that Mason and I found the other night. Too often, however, they are much more heart-wrenching.

“I’m worried about so-and-so because his family has left him in charge of his younger brother…”

“Does anyone have a size 12 coat for a girl? I saw so-and-so on the playground and she was nearly blue from being frozen and she only had on a thin shirt.”

“Does anyone remember so-and-so? He’s in high school now and just got kicked out of his house. What can we do to help?”

Not only are these typical, they’ve been the messages inundating my work e-mail for the past two weeks. I work with some of the most generous people because they are all willing to do something. Quite often, we say things like this in education: “If I could only help ONE child…” The problem with that is that there is always more than just the one child to help. Doctors don’t utter this. If I could only get that one surgical procedure right ONE time. Pilots don’t pronounce this. If I could just land the plane without going off the runway ONE time.

I’m leaving comments open for ONE day. For every comment I get I’m donating ONE dollar to a fund I’m creating for the students named in the title and I will split it up for them so they can have a Christmas. That’s it. Just so they can have A CHRISTMAS.

For every person who sends me a card from that colossal time waster I linked earlier, I will donate three dollars. Maybe not so much a time waster after all. Maybe it’s just nice.

Whew! Monthlong blogging has left me…well… full of all sorts of titles that I haven’t been able to use. Some of them come to me in a moment and are then GONE like the frosted cookies at the office Christmas party. Other times, I remember to write them down and keep a list. I do the same thing for my screen name when I get a chance to chat. My favorite one of late was “McOMG”. I tickle myself endlessly when I have time on my hands.

And time? Well, I have that now that all my papers and projects are done for the semester. Time for… mojito recipes. So far, I’ve loved the one that the Foolish Skeptic left yesterday. One question: are you sure it’s brown sugar?

I went straight to the top and found some great ideas here but the problem is that now I’m going to buy every flavor rum they have available just to try them all. Only three shopping days left! Until Mallory comes home! And I have a designated driver! Now, I have a word of caution for those under the age of 21 when you go to that site: just lie. Tell them you’re 21. How would they know? It does make me wonder, however, what anyone who is under 21 is doing reading my site. I’m just a boring old lady who dreams of lemon scented Pledge, longs for a Dyson, and wonders why anyone in their right mind could possibly want to buy a chocolate fountain to have and keep and clean.

With all my free time (read: sitting on my fat ass and surfing the Internet for gift baskets for Mallory during her final exams) I found something that was so amusing that Mason and I stayed up 2 hours past his bedtime playing with it. And I’ve come up with an idea, too.

But, I’m not going to tell you yet. It has something to do with money. And Christmas. And helping people out. I even have the ‘people’ in mind. I’ll tell you later.

For now, I have to give a shout out to a couple of really cool people. One of them is Melissa who sent me Kona coffee. From Hawaii. I know! That’s the noise I made, too! On a whim, she also decided to send me some Chocolate covered Macadamia Nuts.

Officially and decidedly, I love Melissa.

I don’t want to forget to mention that the person who won the coffee from yours truly has also been named and I haven’t yet had the chance to congratulate Kathy from “Where’s The Mute Button?” for the Peet’s coffee that is en route to her home from me. Kathy offered me a choice in sending her a gift. She wanted to donate money to a student at my school in need instead of getting the coffee. Since I wanted her to have the coffee, too, we came up with a compromise: she gets one of the three bags offered and the rest of the money will go toward a gift to a student for Christmas.

Bless. Her. Heart.

I loved that idea. It gave me warm fuzzies and brought a tear to my eye and made me sob uncontrollably for about 5 minutes. The embarrassing kind. Where I do that intake of air and sound like I’ve got a bad case of hiccups. Still, it made me happy to hear that she had that great idea.

Unabashedly and audaciously, I love Kathy.

Finally, Holly from Culture Captioning has contacted me about something called Bada Beans. Her e-mail was cuddly and winsome, so I agreed. She knew I liked and reviewed coffee and her sheepish e-mail subject line elicited a snort: Typical “can I send you stuff” request. Our exchange had me asking to test out a mansion, but darn the luck. The last one had already been sent out. I’m going to let it slide this time because she then agreed to send me some Bubble Chocolate. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Flagrantly and brazenly, I love Holly.

All this love stuff has made me lightheaded because I can’t believe what I’m going to do. First, I’m going to make you wait until tomorrow. You’ll be sure to come back, right? There might be some Bubble Chocolate in it for you.