Scripture standout: 1 John: 17 If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? 18 Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth."
Morning thoughts: I had too much fun last night. RB hosted quite a fun little fiesta for my birthday and I took full advantage of the margaritas and wine she served. So I don't have many poignant morning thoughts to share other than I know what it feels like to feel deeded. RB pulled out all the stops — she went to the ends of the earth to find or cook the things I like. There were tamales from Texas, gorgeous chocolate cupcakes and Reece's Peanut Butter cups. What nibble was by the vat of my very favorite chardonnay chilling at the bar? Why, white cheddar cheese puffs of course! It reminded me how meaningful it is when someone treats you to the things you love. It reminded me to take note of my friends' likes and dislikes, and shower them in the good stuff. It reminded me that going to a lot of trouble for someone makes them feel like a million dollars. When I get out of my fog, perhaps I can articulate this more clearly — and do it more often for others.
The Deed/The Day: I have been in such a fog today that I had to scramble through my blog toolbox to get a last-minute, end-of-the-day idea for a deed. I found one: write one of your teachers. This is a wonderful idea, and timely. The person I am writing is Paul Foerester. He was my Algebra II teacher my sophomore year at Alamo Heights High School. Mr. Foerester is smart. He's written about a million math books and is a friendly, jovial wonderful person. This spring, he is retiring after many many years with the school district. As brilliant as Mr. Forester is in all things math, I was just so — not. Here is my letter to Mr. Foerester:
Dear Mr. Foerester:
Congratulations on your retirement! I wish I could be there to wish you well in person, but I live in Florida now and it is difficult to get back home.
I am grateful to live in Florida. I have enjoyed a wonderful career here as a journalist — first for The Jacksonville Business Journal and now as the editor of two community newspapers. I adore my work — I feel like this is my calling! The other day I calculated it, and figured I have been a writer or editor for I nearly 25 years if you include my work in high school and college. That's a long a#$ time!
Mr. Foerester, I have you to thank for it all. My sophomore year, I took your Algebra II class. It was right after lunch, and I was not your most attentive student. I goofed off with Heather Henderson and didn't pay attention. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. My brain didn't do math.
While I excelled in other honors classes, I failed your class. Yup. My first, last and only class failure in my educational career. My parents were POed! I was scared. The guidance counselor told me I couldn't take your class again in the spring. They told me I needed to pick another class to take — and the only options available were electives. That being the case, I had to take two electives. And I shouldn't be picky, the frustrated guidance counselor said, because there were only two elective courses available: Typing with Mrs. Tassos; and Journalism with Mrs. Norman.
I learned a lot from those classes. No offense — and I sincerely don't mean to be cheeky or disrespectful in any way here — but that failure put me on a road where Algebra II had no role. As much as I wish I was a better Algebra II student for you, I am grateful you failed me. I wouldn't be who I am today without you.
WIth love and appreciation,
Susanna Person Barton
Alamo Heights High School, Class of 1990
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