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HeroicStories #747: A Class Act
Reaching more than 40,000 subscribers in 118 countries, this is...
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HeroicStories #747: 12 April 2008 www.HeroicStories.com
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A Class Act Story Editor:
by Catherine Granger Glover Joyce Schowalter
North Carolina, USA
There were eight of us, for five years, back in the late 1980's and
early 1990's. I had adopted three boys born of my ex-husband's first
marriage. I also had my daughter, and my two nieces and nephew, staying
while their mom left an abusive relationship, and me. We were a mixed
family, but full of love and luck.
For the holidays, I started picking up little things in February, so I'd
have something for each child. Working four 10-hour days weekly gave me
one weekday to shop while they were in school.
Each year we carefully filled out "adopt a family" forms asking each
child's age, height, weight, favorite color and sports team, and
desires. Thanks to various giving organizations, I didn't have to budget
money for holiday dinners.
We often received very nice gifts for each child, however most were
clothes or very generic items. The kids were always thankful to have new
items. My 'big bucks went to finding a special gift for each (usually a
thrift store, dollar store, or clearance item), which they would know
was purchased just for them.
In 1991, my daughter was 7 and wished for a baby doll more than
anything in the world. She knew Santa would bring her a baby doll,
carriage, and all the tools to care for her baby. I found an inexpensive
umbrella stroller, a cheap doll, and even some clothes and a bottle, but
feared they would break quickly. She was thrilled, as were all the kids
with their 'big' presents.
Then it came time to open the 'charity' gifts. There was more than one
for each child, which confused us but was fun. Each child opened what it
expected to be a piece of clothing, or generic dollar store toy. As the
wrappings came off, whoops of pure joy resounded around the room, and I
sat in stunned silence.
Each child had received something just for them! My daughter received a
wonderful baby doll with a full set of clothes, and everything to take
care of it -- bottles, diapers, bibs, etc. The boys each received a
regulation-size ball and a correctly sized team jersey for their
favorite team. My nieces received 'real' versions of the items they had
asked for. There was even a present for me, a small photo album to hold
photographs.
I don't remember the exact class that adopted us that year, only that it
was from Springfield High School, Virginia. We didn't know how they
raised the funds to buy the presents, or why they adopted a whole family
rather than just contributing gifts to a drive.
I only know that whenever Christmas comes around I send my thanks out
once again for that wonderful year. 16 years later we still talk of the
joy that class brought to our whole family. About the year that not only
were our needs met, but a caring respect for us as individuals was added.
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HeroicStories to you... and who knows, whatever the advertiser is
interested in might be of interest to you, also.
Susan in Kansas replies to "Lauren Listened", which recounted a
15-year-old boy's experience in being comforted by friend after a
traumatic, humiliating fall earlier in the day. Susan: "It's hard to
imagine any of us getting through our childhoods without an incident
like the one Harold describes. Being a teenager is filled with so many
transitions, and we are so impressed by the opinions of others.
Especially for a person who is naturally shy, having someone to listen
to at crucial moments is incredibly important."
David (location unknown) adds a comment about "Artist in Residence"
(#745). (That story is in our Archives here:
http://www.HeroicStories.com/archives.html .) David writes: "Ed in
Montana commented on that story 'Stereotypes are just that; there is
incredible talent to be found in the abilities of many blue collar
workers.' As a college sociology professor, I echo his views. I teach
about one of the greatest modern social thinkers, who wrote a book few
have read although most know the title: 'The True Believer' (1951). He
wrote eloquently about political and religious mass movements and
believers in them. In addition, he wrote nine other books. All
published, most well received by scholars, philosophers, and
researchers. That social thinker's name was Eric Hoffer, he was
completely self-educated, and worked on the docks as a longshoreman
until he retired."
Pastor Wade in South Carolina continues our conversation about PTSD
(Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) from various sources. "I was just a
seventeen-year-old kid when I joined the U.S. Navy during WW II. Three
months later I was on an amphibious ship in the Southeast Pacific.
Exploding bombs near us, Kamikaze planes diving into near-by ships,
riding in landing boats with mortar falling all around -- all caused
horrible nightmares for more than 20 years after I came home. I needed
help and deprogramming, but none was available that I knew about."
Rob from Florida responds, "To understand what combat stress is and what
it does, I recommend reading 'On Combat' by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman. It
is by far the finest work ever written on the subject."
Nancy in Illinois adds: "Thank goodness I have no direct experience with
the ghastly situations that create genuine, firsthand PTSD, but I feel I
experienced a whiff of it, which was more than enough to make me pray I
never encounter it any closer. Two years ago, a beloved friend of mine
committed suicide with a gun. For weeks afterward (usually as I was
trying to fall asleep), my grieving overactive imagination vividly
reconstructed details. I certainly felt spooked, physically wounded, and
emotionally unstable for months. In fact, two months to the day after my
friend's suicide, I suffered a stroke, fortunately minor. I have since
wondered if that itself was a symptom of post-traumatic stress."
Finally, John in Rhode Island writes, "I've read HeroicStories for
several years and it's made me a better person. Like many of you, I
believe the 'grand gesture doesn't come often. It's the small things, as
in your story 'Take a Moment,' (#743) letting people into traffic or
putting their gas cap back on. Now I bring a shopping cart from the
parking lot into the store. I fly a lot alone, so I give up my window
seat so a couple or family can sit together. I even pick up trash,
especially if there's a trash can around. It doesn't only make other
people feel good. It makes me feel good. Thank you for the wonderful
work you do!"
Joyce Schowalter, Publisher
Co-Conspirators to Make the World a Better Place
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