This was originally written July 27, 2010 but not completed or posted.
My sister and I crashed Paul's work trip to Vegas. After a much stressful week and pawning off the kids with all their info we were ready to go.
Getting Kim in the back of Paul's truck was fun. She just couldn't get the lift she needed. My hand up her ass did the trick. I undid all my physical therapy and hoisted in myself and Paul smirked and we were off.
My heart had been hurting so bad for a couple of days but with each mile it began to melt a little.
We took our time, stopped 4 times for me to walk and we walked the Hoover Dam at sunset. It was damn windy, damn hot but we had a damn good time.
We arrived the hotel about 8 p.m. We stayed at the M resort in Henderson, 5 miles south of the strip on Las Vegas BLVD. They messed up the room and they only had a one King Size bed. He asked if that would be ok. We are close but not that close. Kim was going to have to sleep on a roll away the first night. We haul our own stuff up to the room. Kim and I are determined to be as cheap as we can be. First thing I notice is a faint smell of smoke but drop my bags and run to the view. Kim followed my lead. Paul said this is not acceptable and starts to head to the door. The lights turn off. We are in pitch black and feeling up the walls, tripping over dropped purses and bags. Paul makes it to door and leaves Kim and I. We can't stop laughing. Kim starts clapping her hands, Lights on, Lights off. Doesn't work. I finally find a switch and turn it on. We start to gather our stuff and the lights go off again. I turn the light on and Kim grabs her stuff and runs. After about 3 more lights on and off, we feel confident we didn't leave anything and go meet Paul. He is waiting for us with his luggage and says we are stuck in that room for the night they'll change us tomorrow. We haul everything back up and then remember the light problem. Leaving our things and Paul we go down to the lobby. Teran explains that you must keep your key in the fob by the door for the lights to remain on. Too bad we couldn't keep the lights on long enough to see the small print that states this. Kim's roll away arrives and we head out for dinner.
The next morning, Paul leaves for work at 5 in the morning. We sleep in 'til 8. We wake up to a pitch black room and laugh all over. Paul took his key. It only took us a few minutes to realize just open the damn curtain. As we lazily get ready for our day, we search out this great room. There is a closet full of goodies. I model the $5 M and M's, water bottle (hot) and all the various treats. Wait I say, there is a box. It is an adult pleasure box. I throw it at Kim and we start giggling wondering what could be inside. It was $25 dollars. I return everything and Kim notices on the small note card it states removal of the items from their pedestals will bill the room. I'm freaking out and laughing my butt off. Here we are in staying in a room courtesy of Southwest Gas and now I just charged it about $120 in junk and a pleasure pack. I high tail it down to the lobby and Maritini assures me that no charges will be charged that I'm not the first one to do this. I tell her I don't want reverse charges just no charges at all. She must be laughing on the inside as hiding the fact I modeled candy bars is the least on indiscretions in Vegas. On Saturday as we were checking out of our other room, Paul opened the cabinet and pulled out a snicker and said, "What a $5 snicker!" Kim and I both scream, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" We confess to our earlier indiscretions and tell him about the pleasure pack. He said he knew what was in it. Joy Juice and condom for your room and a travel bottle of KY so they can screw you up the ass at check out. At check out there was no indication of of tomfoolery with the room extras.
Kim and I were ready to go hit the slots before our lunch cooking show and buffet. We go down and find a BlackJack machine.
"Going down or getting off" Kim said to the couple who were smooching in the corner of the elevator. I almost peed my pants. I couldn't believe Kim kept a straight face. (As it turns out Kim had no clue what she said.)
More to come... Virgin Slot Machine queens.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Bluebonnets
Took a Professional Development Class on Given Language. The idea is to look at other prose or poetry and use it to inspire writing. Here are my three inspired writings during class....
Bluebonnets- Meagen Winter
When I think of my first independence of my youth, all that I seem to remember is bluebonnets- open fields hidden by oak trees- quiet still, uninhabited, dry river beds with the sounds of past flash floods roaring, lingering in the air. I don't know why I should remember only the bluebonnets. Surely, there must have been, hidden creatures- signs of other humans, tracks, laughter hiding in the leaves rustling in the humid hot wind; but memory is a translucent window-- it does not present things as they are, but as they feel. And so, when I think of my travels to my own Terribithia, I remember only the peace of heart, God's grace and light, the courage of a conqueror, a happy go lucky girl. And one other thing I remember, another incongruency of memory- the fear of being alone and dying- that old rotted out trunk that served as my bridge to the blue bonnet field.
- inspired by "Marigold" by Eugenia W. Collier
Within me lives a
THIN Person
who is energetic and athletic and can put
lotion on the bottom of her own feet.
She prefers , however not to eat fat free chips.
- Meagen Winter
- inspired by an advertisement for Evian Water
Crazy- Meagen Winter
You'd have to be crazy
to want to take a writing class
during the summer,
Handing over precious "me" hours,
the missed latte, and
having to set the alarm clock.
You'd have to be crazy
to want to go to class and
"share" your feelings and deep
dark secrets to strangers who are
just looking for professional development credit.
You'd have to be crazy
to want to fill your mind with the
possibilities to empower your students
and provide them a safe place to
learn and become.
You'd have be crazy.
inspired by poem "Crazy" by Angela Johnson
Bluebonnets- Meagen Winter
When I think of my first independence of my youth, all that I seem to remember is bluebonnets- open fields hidden by oak trees- quiet still, uninhabited, dry river beds with the sounds of past flash floods roaring, lingering in the air. I don't know why I should remember only the bluebonnets. Surely, there must have been, hidden creatures- signs of other humans, tracks, laughter hiding in the leaves rustling in the humid hot wind; but memory is a translucent window-- it does not present things as they are, but as they feel. And so, when I think of my travels to my own Terribithia, I remember only the peace of heart, God's grace and light, the courage of a conqueror, a happy go lucky girl. And one other thing I remember, another incongruency of memory- the fear of being alone and dying- that old rotted out trunk that served as my bridge to the blue bonnet field.
- inspired by "Marigold" by Eugenia W. Collier
Within me lives a
THIN Person
who is energetic and athletic and can put
lotion on the bottom of her own feet.
She prefers , however not to eat fat free chips.
- Meagen Winter
- inspired by an advertisement for Evian Water
Crazy- Meagen Winter
You'd have to be crazy
to want to take a writing class
during the summer,
Handing over precious "me" hours,
the missed latte, and
having to set the alarm clock.
You'd have to be crazy
to want to go to class and
"share" your feelings and deep
dark secrets to strangers who are
just looking for professional development credit.
You'd have to be crazy
to want to fill your mind with the
possibilities to empower your students
and provide them a safe place to
learn and become.
You'd have be crazy.
inspired by poem "Crazy" by Angela Johnson
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Signs and Holiness
Lately, my facebook friends have been talking about signs. We are connected both earthly and spiritually.
Being a Franciscan, we are called to channel that body of Christ in our everyday actions. Some days, I really ignore my call to be Christ's Image and to become one with all around me. When these days happen, in the past couple of years, I get a jolt when Christ comes to me through others.
My prayer today is to keep the peace and show Christ's love through my ordinary daily life. When the moments come when I'm am pulled from the union of His body, please let me stop and breathe in His love through all the amazing children (yes, this refers to all life), let me embrace His pure love, and receive the signs.
I am so blessed that I am surrounded by such Holy people. Not all, have the same faith, or believe the way I do but all are so Holy.
My friends and family you are Holy. I pray to treat you the way you are meant to be treated and pray that you will grow to know you are Holy.
Meagen Winter, SFO
SFO- Secular Franciscan Order. Check us out.
Being a Franciscan, we are called to channel that body of Christ in our everyday actions. Some days, I really ignore my call to be Christ's Image and to become one with all around me. When these days happen, in the past couple of years, I get a jolt when Christ comes to me through others.
My prayer today is to keep the peace and show Christ's love through my ordinary daily life. When the moments come when I'm am pulled from the union of His body, please let me stop and breathe in His love through all the amazing children (yes, this refers to all life), let me embrace His pure love, and receive the signs.
I am so blessed that I am surrounded by such Holy people. Not all, have the same faith, or believe the way I do but all are so Holy.
My friends and family you are Holy. I pray to treat you the way you are meant to be treated and pray that you will grow to know you are Holy.
Meagen Winter, SFO
SFO- Secular Franciscan Order. Check us out.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
A little peice of heaven
The title of this post has special meaning to me and a little girl in my class. I cannot share her story but I will share her spirit.
We are in the midst of AIMS prep the Friday before AIMS and guess what decides to arrive. ALL the animals for our science curriculum that was to have arrived in January. I had a feeling something like this would happen so we prepared their homes a week in advance just in case they arrived at a not so good time.
It was actually fun having them arrive. The kids were excited and it was a nice change of pace. The teacher next door doesn't allow her kiddos to name the animals as they are for scientific purposes. So her students give them names such as No Name, I Don't Know, Hey You. I love how the kids prevail. ( by the way she does too. She really isn't as mean as she wants people to think.) My kiddos immediately started naming the animals and claiming them. I didn't even get a word in to warn them about the delicacy of things. I just let it happen.
Unfortunately the frogs came down with an illness. Some have ulcers on the outside of their bodies and began to bled. I'm a sucker for "pets". I'm trying to hold back my tears as the kids are sharing theirs. Are they going to die? One frog "Precious" was struggling. She kept trying to float and hold her bleeding sore out of the water. You could tell she was suffering. I went and got my next door neighbor and she came to the rescue. She talked with the class on what we need to do etc. I needed antibiotics, big gallon buckets, small transfer cups to help them adjust to the new environment and vacuums etc. We set up the emergency infirmary and try to move on with our experiment with the crabs at the same time. ( In the midst of all this the principal comes and sits down for a walk thru- only nice things were said but I hate being observed in a crisis)
My little girl who is my precious is holding back tears. I go and rub her back and the next thing I know she is clinging to me. Can't she just die and go to heaven? I tell her I don't know how to put a frog out of its misery. They didn't teach me that in college and the 8 hour class I took on this unit didn't tell me either. One large tear slips down her sweet face. I go back to my colleague. HELP! She suggested we put it in a baggie with a little water and put it in the freezer. The heart rate would slow down and cause it to go into a deep sleep then pass away. Sounded good to me. Don't know if there was much truth to it but I went with it.
I told the plan to the little girl and she was happy to do something for this frog. We wrapped the baggie in a paper towel and stuck it behind some ice cream in the teacher's lounge. We would check on Precious in the morning.
The next day, my lil' girl was ready to go say goodbye to Precious. We pulled Precious from behind the Moose Tracks and saw our frogsicle. She looked at peace. Now we had to decide what to do with her. She wanted to bury her. At my old school I would know where I would have buried it. Here I'm not quite so sure so I said. We could put her in the garbage. She agreed but we first had to pray for Precious' soul. Screw the rules--- I prayed for that frog's soul and held my lil' girls hand. We did a quick release in the trash can and turned away. Just as we reached the door she ran back and grabbed the baggie with Precious. Please Mrs. Winter, we have to bury her. I'll take her. She needs to be buried. We put Precious back in the freezer so we could think. Just then a friend walks in and teasingly says, what's a kid doing in here? My lil' girl runs to her and hugs her and tells her the whole story. My friend is now holding back her tear.
Because there is no way for my girl to take the frog home, I said I would bury her. She made me place my hand on her heart and swear to God that I won't throw Precious away. I did. She then added that Katelyn and Claire have to be witnesses just to be sure. The last thing she did on Friday was sneak one last peak at Precious and gave me a hug and told me that I was doing the right thing.
I don't know how much of what all we learned during this Science Unit is Measured on the AIMS test but on the life test it scored excelling.
PS The frog funeral is at 4 p.m. today.
We are in the midst of AIMS prep the Friday before AIMS and guess what decides to arrive. ALL the animals for our science curriculum that was to have arrived in January. I had a feeling something like this would happen so we prepared their homes a week in advance just in case they arrived at a not so good time.
It was actually fun having them arrive. The kids were excited and it was a nice change of pace. The teacher next door doesn't allow her kiddos to name the animals as they are for scientific purposes. So her students give them names such as No Name, I Don't Know, Hey You. I love how the kids prevail. ( by the way she does too. She really isn't as mean as she wants people to think.) My kiddos immediately started naming the animals and claiming them. I didn't even get a word in to warn them about the delicacy of things. I just let it happen.
Unfortunately the frogs came down with an illness. Some have ulcers on the outside of their bodies and began to bled. I'm a sucker for "pets". I'm trying to hold back my tears as the kids are sharing theirs. Are they going to die? One frog "Precious" was struggling. She kept trying to float and hold her bleeding sore out of the water. You could tell she was suffering. I went and got my next door neighbor and she came to the rescue. She talked with the class on what we need to do etc. I needed antibiotics, big gallon buckets, small transfer cups to help them adjust to the new environment and vacuums etc. We set up the emergency infirmary and try to move on with our experiment with the crabs at the same time. ( In the midst of all this the principal comes and sits down for a walk thru- only nice things were said but I hate being observed in a crisis)
My little girl who is my precious is holding back tears. I go and rub her back and the next thing I know she is clinging to me. Can't she just die and go to heaven? I tell her I don't know how to put a frog out of its misery. They didn't teach me that in college and the 8 hour class I took on this unit didn't tell me either. One large tear slips down her sweet face. I go back to my colleague. HELP! She suggested we put it in a baggie with a little water and put it in the freezer. The heart rate would slow down and cause it to go into a deep sleep then pass away. Sounded good to me. Don't know if there was much truth to it but I went with it.
I told the plan to the little girl and she was happy to do something for this frog. We wrapped the baggie in a paper towel and stuck it behind some ice cream in the teacher's lounge. We would check on Precious in the morning.
The next day, my lil' girl was ready to go say goodbye to Precious. We pulled Precious from behind the Moose Tracks and saw our frogsicle. She looked at peace. Now we had to decide what to do with her. She wanted to bury her. At my old school I would know where I would have buried it. Here I'm not quite so sure so I said. We could put her in the garbage. She agreed but we first had to pray for Precious' soul. Screw the rules--- I prayed for that frog's soul and held my lil' girls hand. We did a quick release in the trash can and turned away. Just as we reached the door she ran back and grabbed the baggie with Precious. Please Mrs. Winter, we have to bury her. I'll take her. She needs to be buried. We put Precious back in the freezer so we could think. Just then a friend walks in and teasingly says, what's a kid doing in here? My lil' girl runs to her and hugs her and tells her the whole story. My friend is now holding back her tear.
Because there is no way for my girl to take the frog home, I said I would bury her. She made me place my hand on her heart and swear to God that I won't throw Precious away. I did. She then added that Katelyn and Claire have to be witnesses just to be sure. The last thing she did on Friday was sneak one last peak at Precious and gave me a hug and told me that I was doing the right thing.
I don't know how much of what all we learned during this Science Unit is Measured on the AIMS test but on the life test it scored excelling.
PS The frog funeral is at 4 p.m. today.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Good times ahead
I had the pleasure of being a chauffeur last night to three young men.
A month ago my two boys and a friend decided they wanted steak, good steak. Naturally they needed money to go get the steak. How do we get the money? They thought. People have money. Where there are people, there be money. Gilbert Days parade has people. Thought another. This is where the adventure started.
After many ideas, they settled on selling coffee and snack food to the people up and down the parade route. Walking up and down the aisle at WalMart where everything is cheap they gathered their snack foods and debated on how to do the coffee. Eventually, they saw the realization that they were going to have to spend some money to make some money. A $12 investment in junk food and $25 investment in starbucks coffee boxes on the go they were ready to get to work.
In an hour and a half, they profited $80. Enough for the three of them, including tip, but not gas and chauffeur expenses to go to Monti's.
People on the parade route were amused. One woman said she'd only buy if they had sugar. They whipped out some sugar. She then said, "I meant splenda." They whipped out splenda. Then she wanted cream. They had cream. After several attempts to stump them she gave them $5 and took her cup of coffee. When people asked what they were using the money for they replied, "We are trying to stimulate the economy."
Monti's day was coming up but unfortunately, the Winter boys had to cancel due to a brotherly squabble that involved "gas", a "rock" and a "broken window". Once they were able to haul enough garbage cans, sell a D.S., and a few other things they were about to set a new date to Monti's .
Dressed in White, ironed mind you, button down shirts, ties and pants. Their chauffeur, me, got to drive them to their adventure. I stayed in the car. I organized bills, receipts, face booked, and read a book all by myself. The text came that they were through. I then asked if they wanted to go on a light rail ride.
We walked down Mill Ave. and hopped the train. We got off downtown. I walked 10 feet behind while these numbskulls walked down the street doing the "Hey Hey were the monkeys walk". They went up and down the escalators at some outdoor place across from the US Airways.
The ride back on the train they played a game called ninja. It's some weird game where you take turns trying to tag the other. I don't know but they had the whole train watching and laughing. I sat next to a gentleman that was about 25 and definitely street wise. He and his "fiance" were headed to a party. He smiled and said, "good kids, eh?" I told him great kids.
He asked why they were dressed up. The train police came in and asked questions too. They told their story. The young man next to me said, "mom, you gots good times ahead. These here boys can taste a good steak and it's on their own dime by their own work of their back. While, they should have ate least bought you a Big Mac and gives you some gas money but they is good kids. Look at them, mom. They are what boys should be."
I agree! These are what boys should be!
They are now thinking about Ruth's Chris. One pointed out it would only take about 4 parades.
A month ago my two boys and a friend decided they wanted steak, good steak. Naturally they needed money to go get the steak. How do we get the money? They thought. People have money. Where there are people, there be money. Gilbert Days parade has people. Thought another. This is where the adventure started.
After many ideas, they settled on selling coffee and snack food to the people up and down the parade route. Walking up and down the aisle at WalMart where everything is cheap they gathered their snack foods and debated on how to do the coffee. Eventually, they saw the realization that they were going to have to spend some money to make some money. A $12 investment in junk food and $25 investment in starbucks coffee boxes on the go they were ready to get to work.
In an hour and a half, they profited $80. Enough for the three of them, including tip, but not gas and chauffeur expenses to go to Monti's.
People on the parade route were amused. One woman said she'd only buy if they had sugar. They whipped out some sugar. She then said, "I meant splenda." They whipped out splenda. Then she wanted cream. They had cream. After several attempts to stump them she gave them $5 and took her cup of coffee. When people asked what they were using the money for they replied, "We are trying to stimulate the economy."
Monti's day was coming up but unfortunately, the Winter boys had to cancel due to a brotherly squabble that involved "gas", a "rock" and a "broken window". Once they were able to haul enough garbage cans, sell a D.S., and a few other things they were about to set a new date to Monti's .
Dressed in White, ironed mind you, button down shirts, ties and pants. Their chauffeur, me, got to drive them to their adventure. I stayed in the car. I organized bills, receipts, face booked, and read a book all by myself. The text came that they were through. I then asked if they wanted to go on a light rail ride.
We walked down Mill Ave. and hopped the train. We got off downtown. I walked 10 feet behind while these numbskulls walked down the street doing the "Hey Hey were the monkeys walk". They went up and down the escalators at some outdoor place across from the US Airways.
The ride back on the train they played a game called ninja. It's some weird game where you take turns trying to tag the other. I don't know but they had the whole train watching and laughing. I sat next to a gentleman that was about 25 and definitely street wise. He and his "fiance" were headed to a party. He smiled and said, "good kids, eh?" I told him great kids.
He asked why they were dressed up. The train police came in and asked questions too. They told their story. The young man next to me said, "mom, you gots good times ahead. These here boys can taste a good steak and it's on their own dime by their own work of their back. While, they should have ate least bought you a Big Mac and gives you some gas money but they is good kids. Look at them, mom. They are what boys should be."
I agree! These are what boys should be!
They are now thinking about Ruth's Chris. One pointed out it would only take about 4 parades.
Monday, November 9, 2009
The Boy Who Cried Snake
Friday night, Maria and Nick were sopose to mop the floor and Nick was sopose to feed his snake. I was relaxed in my recliner, Maria was asleep on the couch with Claire, Paul was on the computer and Katelyn was coloring at the table.
From the otherside of the house I hear Nick screaming, Help!! Help!!. I didn't move or acknowdlege him as he and his brother are constinatly fighting and usually there is no blood or broken bones. He kept screaming. I yelled knock it off you two! Andrew yelled I'm in here mom. He was next to Paul. Everyone jumped at once now realizing that he must be hurt.
He comes running down the hall with our ball python wrapped around his arm and its fangs clamped on his finger. Droplets of blood were forming on his hand.
Relax I tell him. Great advice. It didn't work. Then again I don't really know if he relaxed. I tell everyone to stay calm that eventually the snake will realize he can't swallow Nick and will have to let go. Nick is turning a little red from holding his breath.
Here comes dad's advice. (Paul is terrified of snakes. Paul who barely ever cusses, who couldn't hurt a flea or any other animal except snakes is pumped.) I'll get a shovel and chop it's head off. Get the f'n santanic creature off his arm and I'm going to blow it's head off.
Come on we have to think, I say- relax.
Nick-- Mom, can I please say shit.
OK
SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Paul- I know let's shock him with ice.
Applied Ice- Snake tightens the grip and the fangs.
HUMMM ... hummm..... hummm...
Mom- I know let's put him in water. He'll have to come up for air.
Paul- ICE WATER!!!!
It worked the snake let go and boy was he mad. Andy armed with gloves, stick and a pillow sack and I wrestled the snake into the bag.
Paul and Andy went to return the snake to his cage and the snake wouldn't go in. Paul actually showed the snake his fist and said to it that he'd punch it if it didn't go in.
Now we are all laughing. Nick in tears- not wet ones. We called the doctor. Urgent Care $50, Antibodics $20 and 2 hours later all was calm.
Two morals to this story...
1. Don't cry snake because when you really need help no one will come.
2. Follow your mom's instructions, and feed your snake in the feeding tank do not stick your hand in with a mouse in it's regular cage or it might think you are a mouse.
P.S. Paul couldn't sleep knowing the snake was living in our house. The boys had to find him a new happy home. We still have 2 snakes though.
From the otherside of the house I hear Nick screaming, Help!! Help!!. I didn't move or acknowdlege him as he and his brother are constinatly fighting and usually there is no blood or broken bones. He kept screaming. I yelled knock it off you two! Andrew yelled I'm in here mom. He was next to Paul. Everyone jumped at once now realizing that he must be hurt.
He comes running down the hall with our ball python wrapped around his arm and its fangs clamped on his finger. Droplets of blood were forming on his hand.
Relax I tell him. Great advice. It didn't work. Then again I don't really know if he relaxed. I tell everyone to stay calm that eventually the snake will realize he can't swallow Nick and will have to let go. Nick is turning a little red from holding his breath.
Here comes dad's advice. (Paul is terrified of snakes. Paul who barely ever cusses, who couldn't hurt a flea or any other animal except snakes is pumped.) I'll get a shovel and chop it's head off. Get the f'n santanic creature off his arm and I'm going to blow it's head off.
Come on we have to think, I say- relax.
Nick-- Mom, can I please say shit.
OK
SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Paul- I know let's shock him with ice.
Applied Ice- Snake tightens the grip and the fangs.
HUMMM ... hummm..... hummm...
Mom- I know let's put him in water. He'll have to come up for air.
Paul- ICE WATER!!!!
It worked the snake let go and boy was he mad. Andy armed with gloves, stick and a pillow sack and I wrestled the snake into the bag.
Paul and Andy went to return the snake to his cage and the snake wouldn't go in. Paul actually showed the snake his fist and said to it that he'd punch it if it didn't go in.
Now we are all laughing. Nick in tears- not wet ones. We called the doctor. Urgent Care $50, Antibodics $20 and 2 hours later all was calm.
Two morals to this story...
1. Don't cry snake because when you really need help no one will come.
2. Follow your mom's instructions, and feed your snake in the feeding tank do not stick your hand in with a mouse in it's regular cage or it might think you are a mouse.
P.S. Paul couldn't sleep knowing the snake was living in our house. The boys had to find him a new happy home. We still have 2 snakes though.
Confessions of a Mother
Recently, I had an incident with a woman at church. She was under a lot of stress and I was her nearest target when she decided to blow. She stuck her finger in my face and started a baragge of misinformed accusations. If I had listened, I would know what was going on. She specifically told me this etc. I asked her very sweetly in front of a lot of people to please remove her finger from my face. I then said that what she didn't realize was that this one particular person who everyone trusts- no names, sent me to change the protocol- we needed to adjust our plan because it wasn't working. She said a few ill words turned and walked away.
I was in confession the next day talking to the priest about the incident. He said,I don't know why you feel bad. I told him to wait... You see... I gave her my finger behind her back when she left and no one was looking. Ohhhhh- he said... Well.... let's see....
A couple of days later, a parent at my new school came up to me and said, I saw how you handled that lady with her finger in your face. My heart was pounding. Oh great, why did I have to flip off this woman in the first place and then not realizing it in front of a parent. She told me how wonderful I handled it and how she had a confrontation with her just before me. (Whew- she didn't see my finger).
I was able to apologize for this finger pointing woman and defend her.
The priests penance sentence for me was to do something nice for the finger pointing woman without notice since what I had done was without notice. I needed to picture her at her best and bring her up in my thoughts.
I hadn't done anything yet but God gave me the woman from my school to complete the penance. But now that I shared this with you, I have notice so I guess I owe her another good deed:)
I was in confession the next day talking to the priest about the incident. He said,I don't know why you feel bad. I told him to wait... You see... I gave her my finger behind her back when she left and no one was looking. Ohhhhh- he said... Well.... let's see....
A couple of days later, a parent at my new school came up to me and said, I saw how you handled that lady with her finger in your face. My heart was pounding. Oh great, why did I have to flip off this woman in the first place and then not realizing it in front of a parent. She told me how wonderful I handled it and how she had a confrontation with her just before me. (Whew- she didn't see my finger).
I was able to apologize for this finger pointing woman and defend her.
The priests penance sentence for me was to do something nice for the finger pointing woman without notice since what I had done was without notice. I needed to picture her at her best and bring her up in my thoughts.
I hadn't done anything yet but God gave me the woman from my school to complete the penance. But now that I shared this with you, I have notice so I guess I owe her another good deed:)
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