ANOTHER EMBARRASSING MOMENT

If you follow my blog or read my books, then you know me pretty well because I’ve opened up about a lot of really personal things and even some embarrassing things that have happened to me over the years. This one though is one that you probably wouldn’t expect anyone to share. In fact, I never thought I’d ever share it, outside my family, but today, I decided I would.

I was eight years old, and we were on a school field trip to Tishomingo State Park. We were going mainly to see “The Swinging Bridge” but there was so much more to do there. We had all kinds of fun that day. After we ate lunch, we went on a hike. That was the last activity for the day, then we would get back on the bus and head back to the school.

After we had hiked for a good while, I had a rumbling in my stomach. I knew exactly what that meant, and you probably do, too. Only, you probably don’t know that I was never good at holding it in when it was ready to come out. I knew there was no way I could ever make it back to the bathroom in time, so I fell back to the end of the line as quickly as I could without being noticed. Then, as soon as I saw the last kid go out of sight, I ducked into the bushes to take care of business, but it was too late. I cleaned myself up as well as I could, but I wasn’t sure it was good enough. When there was nothing else I could do, I ran to catch up with the rest of my class.

We finally made it back to the bus and headed back toward the school. I sat by myself and hoped that no one would find out about my accident. I was hoping I could hide it until I got home. As I was thinking about this, I remembered something Jesus said in Matthew 23:25-28.

Matthew 23:25-28 
25 Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees. Hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and the plate, but the inside is full of extortion and selfishness.
26 You blind Pharisees. First, clean the inside of the cup and plate so the outside of them will be clean also.
27 Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees. Hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which truly appear beautiful on the outside, but inside they are full of dead people’s bones, and every uncleanness.
28 In the same way, you also appear holy to others outwardly, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and sin.

Just like the scribes and Pharisees in Jesus’ day, we too may try to hide what’s going on inside of us by our outward appearance. We may put on fancy clothes, fix our hair, or just try to hide what’s inside with a big smile. People may be fooled, but God is not. He knows exactly what’s going on inside of us. He knows just what’s on our minds. He knows what we’ve done and said, and even what we’ve thought. We can’t hide anything from God. So why try?

We may as well be honest and open with God. There’s no need to be any other way with him. When we’re sad, we need to tell him. When we’re angry, we need to tell him. When we’re disappointed we need to tell him. When we sin, we need to go ahead and confess and ask for his forgiveness quickly and get our relationship with him back on track. We need to be as open, and honest with others as we possibly can. We don’t want to be hypocrites. We don’t need to pretend that we’re something we’re not. We don’t need to try and pull the wool over anyone’s eyes. Honesty really is the best policy.

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THE LIZARD, THE SNAKE, AND THE SEA DRAGON

More memories from my early days at Gift school have resurfaced. I remember getting up in the mornings, getting ready for school, and getting on the bus in the winter while it was still dark. My first-grade teacher’s name was Miss Gay, and her mother, Mrs. Minnie V was my second, and third-grade teacher. Both the second and third-grade classes were in the same room together, so I don’t really remember which grade I was in the year I’m telling you about. I just know it was one of those two.

It was the first day of school and the bus stopped at a house where it had not stopped the year before. A small kid was waiting there at the end of the driveway. His dad was waiting there with him to see him off to school on his first day. He was just starting the first grade, and evidently, he was a little nervous about riding the bus. He started crying, and screaming, “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go.” He became hysterical. His dad tried to calm him down and convince him to get on the bus, but it didn’t do any good. After a few minutes of chaos, he told the bus driver that he would bring the kid to school, and we moved on to the next stop.

Every morning when we arrived at the school, the bus would ease up to the driveway and stop in front of the school. It was a big red, brick building with wide concrete steps that went up to the second floor to a wider concrete porch with big columns. The doors opened into a big auditorium with a tongue-and-groove hardwood floor that creaked and squeaked when we walked on it. There was a stage on the opposite wall that faced the front door, and classrooms on each side. The Principle’s office, and the storage room, for the chairs and other miscellaneous stuff, shared the wall with the stage.

I can recall several events that were held in that auditorium. We had our Christmas plays there, and our song practicing for the plays. Parent’s night and graduations were held there. Then there was that Fall Festival with a King and Queen contest that my sister was crowned queen in. When it was raining or was too cold to be outside, the second through eighth-grade students could play and hang out in that big area.

One day we had two special guests in the auditorium that many of us were excited to see. A group of people brought a giant lizard and a giant snake to show off. I don’t remember exactly what kind either of them was, but they were both the same color, a dark shiny black, which I found pretty interesting. The lizard looked just like the snake, but without legs, and it was shorter.

They put a table in front of the stage and sat the lizard on it and let us come up and pet it. Then they took the snake and stretched it out to show us how long it was. From what I can remember, I would say it was probably ten to twelve feet long and about as big around as a basketball. It took three men to pick it up. It was huge.

I remembered hearing about a snake that was so big it swallowed a baby whole. I wondered if it could have been that snake. After I was older I realized that was not the only large snake in the world, and it was certainly not the biggest. I’ve since heard of snakes swallowing grown men and large animals, such as deer and cows.

When I was young, I always loved seeing the different creatures that God has created, especially the ones I had never seen before. I miss that feeling of seeing a creature for the first time, but once in a while, I get to see one I’ve never seen before. I recently saw the most amazing creature I have seen in many years. We went to the zoo for the blue-millionth time. I’ve seen all those old broken down animals and all the same kinds of creatures that they have had for the last twenty years, but it’s fun to watch our grandson as he sees them live for the first time.

He loves to fish, so we went into the aquarium building. We looked at the fish, of course. There are so many fish that are so beautiful and colorful that seeing them never gets old. Then we saw the water turtles and the water snakes and eels, and all the strange creatures that live in the water. But then, I saw something I don’t remember ever seeing in my whole life. It was a sea dragon. Its head reminded me a little of a seahorse. It was beautiful. I was so amazed. I couldn’t look away. Even more amazing, it was just sitting there in one spot without moving. As I examined it I saw little fins moving to keep it suspended in one spot. It was so awesome. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. When we got home I looked it up on the internet and found that there are several different kinds and many variations, both in shape and color. Very fascinating.

God has created some amazing creatures in this world, and there are so many. I know I haven’t seen them all, and I probably never will in my lifetime, but one day, after God wipes the curse of sin from the earth and recreates it, we will have eternity to enjoy all of his creations (Isaiah 65:17; Revelation 21:1; 2 Peter 3:13).

In 1 Corinthians 2:9, the Apostle Paul, quoting the Prophet Isaiah said, But as it is written, Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the minds of man, the things that God has prepared for those who love him (Isaiah 64:4; 1 Cor. 2:9).

I have a very big imagination, and I can imagine some pretty amazing things, but God is telling us that nothing we could ever imagine could ever come close to the things that God has prepared for us. That’s an amazing thought just by itself, so think about it for a while.

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THE VOLKSWAGEN, THE PRINCIPAL, AND THE SWINGING BRIDGE

I think this may be my last post about my time at Gift school. For alas, today I will have exhausted my memory banks of those joyful days of my youth at that fine institution of learning. I don’t even remember what grade I was in when these memories took place, nor which one came first. So, without further ado, I present the last episode in this series.

One day, when it was time to go home, as we were waiting for the buses, a group of older students picked up a teacher’s Volkswagen Bug and wedged it in between a big Dumpster, and a Gas tank. When she came out to leave, she was furious. There was no way for her to go forward, nor backward. She started asking who did it. I didn’t say a word. When she started demanding that whoever did it, undo it, the parties responsible came forward and moved the car back for her. She got in the car, started it up, and drove away, smiling.

Another time, when we were gathering outside to go home, I did something stupid. For some reason, I just tossed a small rock and hit the bus. The Principal saw me and grabbed me by the arm. He told me I was getting a paddling. Since the buses were about to leave, he said I was to come to his office first thing the next morning.

Well, I didn’t want a paddling. I had heard they had an electric paddle in the office, and I thought I had seen it one day when I was walking past, and the door was open. It was bright green. Since I had only seen wooden paddles before, it had to be the electric one. I could imagine how painful it would be. Getting shocked with electricity with every lick. I might die. So, as soon as I got home, I jumped off the bus and ran inside. I ran to my grandmother and told her what had happened. I poured out my heart to her and told her about the electric paddle that I might be subjected to the next morning. I begged her to write the Principle a note telling him not to paddle me.

Kids learn early how to manipulate, and I was no different. I don’t remember everything I said to my grandmother, but she wrote the note. I do remember thinking the teacher would be more likely to listen to her if she addressed him by his first name. It just so happened that I knew his first name. It was George. I had heard a teacher call him that one day, so I told my grandmother to start the note with, “Dear Mr. George.”

I took the note to his office the next morning and handed it to him. After reading it, the first thing he said was, “How did she know my name was George?” When we’re in danger, human nature kicks into the “Fight or Flight” mode. Children often don’t have that option. They can neither fight, nor run, so they lie, and that’s what I did. I shrugged my shoulders, and said, “I don’t know.” Well, I don’t know exactly why, but he didn’t paddle me, and I was sure glad.

I remember a Fall Festival one year, where we had some sort of pageant, with a King and Queen. I remember standing in line behind the stage in an auditorium full of people. I must have been pretty nervous because I don’t remember walking out. I know I did because I have a picture of me standing on the stage with a brown suit, and the paper pumpkin with the contestant number on it. My sister ended up being chosen as Queen, and Mark, the one who almost drowned in the pond, was the King.

It may have been the same night, but I’m not sure. I just remember having games and playing outside in the semi-dark. We bobbed for apples, and fished behind a curtain, using a fishing pole with a clothespin instead of a hook. We caught some cool prizes. I do remember not wanting the fun to end that night, but as with all good things, it did.

Another time we took a field trip to Tishomingo State Park to visit “The Swinging Bridge.” I’ve always had a vivid imagination, so when I first heard we were going there, I imagined the bridge was like a swing in the schoolyard, only bigger. I was excited, and nervous at the same time. The day finally came, and we were on our way. I still remember how awesome it was when the bus was coming into the parking lot. When I saw the bridge, it wasn’t what I expected. It was even better. A huge, majestic arch stood before the bridge. It was amazing. The whole day was amazing. Even eating my brown, paper-bagged lunch there was amazing.

The thing I’ll never forget though is something that happened on the bridge. A girl named Kelly was already scared, and she was holding on tightly to the side of the bridge. I was just about to walk onto the bridge when, all of a sudden several of the older boys started pulling and swinging on the cables, and the bridge started swinging and rippling, and Kelly started screaming as she was hurled back and forth trying to hang on for dear life. The look on her face told me she was terrified. I wanted to help her, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t believe anyone could enjoy causing another person so much turmoil. Those boys thought it was funny; that is until one of the teachers came and made them stop. I know that was a terrible experience for Kelly, but it could have been a lot worse.

There was a large area in the basement, beside the lunchroom, where we sometimes played when it was bad outside. A while before the school closed down, they started having old people come for a few hours each day, and play games, and visit, and whatever old folks do. Most of them were friendly, and we got to know some of them pretty well. A few of them even came outside and played with us at recess. On the first day back to school, in the fourth grade, there weren’t enough students to justify keeping the school open. So, we had to go to Kossuth school, and they closed Gift School.

After the school closed, they still had the old folk's center for a while, and other local things were held there from time to time. Now, there’s nothing left of the school, but a cracked, grass-covered basketball court, and a few old memories; Memories that I cherish.

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GRANDMA AND THE OLD CLOCK

More memories from my school days at Gift are still rattling around in my head. This time we go back to Kindergarten. The first grade was not in the same building as the second through eighth-grade classes, and the Kindergarten class wasn’t either. In fact, it wasn’t even in the same lot. There was the School, a big, brick, and concrete building. The first grade was in a mobile home that had been converted into a classroom. It was located behind the school. The Kindergarten class was in a house on the other side of the playground, and across a field with some trees.

I remember playing outside in the sandbox. It was fun, but I liked exploring more than digging around in a sandbox that a cat had used for a litter box. I went all over the yard, as far as I was allowed to go. One day I found an old alarm clock in the weeds. I was always intrigued by things like that; things I could take apart to see how they worked.

I went and showed it to one of my teachers, and she said I could have it, so I took it home. When I got there that evening and started playing with it, my grandmother asked me where I got it. I told her, but she didn’t believe me. I don’t remember telling a lie until a few years later in life, but maybe I did. Whatever the reason, she told me to take it back, and tell the teacher I had stolen it. 

I took it back the next day and tried to give it to the teacher. I told her I couldn’t keep it, and I told her what my grandmother had said. My teacher came to see my grandmother at our house and straightened it all out. My grandmother apologized to me, and I got to keep the clock. 

My wife and I have raised three kids of our own now, and I think I understand a little of what my grandmother went through raising me and two of my sisters. It’s not easy. I remember several times when I thought my kids had lied, but I found out I was wrong. All I could do was say “I’m sorry” and move on. I hope they all understand that no parent is perfect, and if they haven’t already, I hope they’ll forgive me for the times I was wrong while trying to prepare them for adulthood. If they don’t understand now, they will as they raise their own children. I pray they will always trust God, and allow him to guide them in this very important responsibility.

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GIFT SCHOOL

Recently, I drove by the first school I ever attended, or where it once was. It was demolished some time ago. Other than an old tree, all that’s left is part of the basketball court, and it’s almost covered with grass. It was simply called Gift. Although it had a Corinth, Mississippi address, I think the community was called Gift, so it was Gift School, but I’m not sure.

I went to Gift from Kindergarten through the third grade. It closed down the next year, citing there weren’t enough students enrolled that year to keep it open. I have a lot of memories from the few short years I attended there. Some are good, and some, not so much.

What I remember most is the people, the kids, and a few teachers I met there. I didn’t stop this time. I just slowly drove past where the school had been, then headed down the old bus route we had taken every day for those five years I was there. As I passed the homes of the many kids who rode the bus every day, I wondered what had become of them. Did they still live there? Were those newer houses theirs, or had they moved far away? Were they still alive? I don’t know. I haven’t seen most of them since the day the school closed.

I only remember one kid from Kindergarten. His name was Donnie. He would eat anything, and by anything, I mean anything that wasn’t food. I remember him eating glue, and modeling clay, just to name a few.

From the first grade, I remember Vivian. She was my best friend. I went to high school with her and got to work with her for a while, a few years back. Then there was Susanne. She was my first girlfriend, although, she didn’t know she was my girlfriend. I went to high school with her as well.

There was Jeffrey, who was quite a bit older than the other first graders. I don’t think he had ever been to school because he was blind. I liked him and considered him a friend. Most of us played with him and helped him get around outside at recess.

I remember a girl named Lynn. I remember the teachers talking about how smart she was. In the middle of the year, they advanced her to the second grade. I was a little jealous. Then I had to repeat first grade, and she passed to the third. She left me behind like I was sitting still. I was so mad at her for years.

An older student named Leroy would come to our classroom after lunch, occasionally, and sing to us for a while. One of the songs he would sing was “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.” I thought he was Leroy Brown and did for years after. He had a good voice, by the way.

I remember coming into the classroom one Monday morning, and discovering it had been vandalized. There was trash everywhere, and our books had been thrown all over the room. Our pencils, crayons, and markers were everywhere. They were even in the fishbowl, and the fish were all dead. It was awful. It was scary, but what could we do? We cleaned it up and went about our day.

I’m not sure if I was in first, or second grade, but I remember playing in the woods during recess, and after lunch. Later, schools changed the word “recess” to “break,” but we called it recess. I remember building houses in the woods. We used the living trees for the frames, and dead, and smaller trees, and branches for the walls. We used branches with leaves for the siding and for the roof. We would cover the roof with dead leaves, and we even made doors on the houses. We played in and around the creeks, and brier patches. We played with moles, tadpoles, and bullfrogs. We had so much fun. Children from all different grades and ages played together there. Of course, there were some older students who were “too mature” for that sort of thing.

I remember a boy named Mark. His dad drove our bus for a while. My sister had a crush on him. They were king and queen of some contest we had for a Fall Festival or some kind of program. I think we were in the second grade, and it was winter. Several of us were playing on some ice in an old frozen pond in the woods. The ice broke, and Mark went under. He might have drowned if not for an older student named Bill. He reached right down into the water with his long arms and pulled Mark out and saved his life. 

Bill was a good friend, too. We had a lot of fun times with him. I’ll tell you more about him in a future post about some of my experiences in the four different elementary schools I attended growing up. I'll put a link at the bottom of this page.* Follow my blog, and get updates when I post new articles. Anyway, after Mark almost drowned, we weren’t allowed to play in the woods anymore. It wasn’t “safe.”

In the third grade, I started hanging out with a boy named Jerry. He wore thick glasses. He said it was because he had been stung between his eyes by a hornet when he was younger. The same exact thing had happened to me two or three summers earlier, but he didn’t believe me, because I didn’t have to wear glasses. I couldn’t make him believe me, so I didn’t waste my time trying.

One day Jerry and I were in the field behind the school, heading back from recess. His little brother Gary was with us. I said something about the woods being grown up since we had not played there in a long time. They both thought I had said a curse word, even though I hadn’t. One of them went and told the teacher, and I got into trouble. I recently heard that Jerry had passed away. I pray that God will bless his family in their time of grief.

There was a red-headed girl named Patty. She reminded me of Peppermint Patty from the Peanuts Gang. There was a kid named Tim who went crazy in the auditorium when he saw Santa Claus get out of a car, and head toward us. I went to calm him down, and we became friends. His mom would bring us toys from time to time after that. I just saw her a couple of weeks ago, and talking to her brought back a lot of memories.

There was a girl named Tina. She sat a can of soda down for a few minutes while she was playing. There were yellow Jackets flying around where we were. When she took another drink, she swallowed one that had crawled inside the can. You can imagine what happened.

Another girl named Michelle was out of school for a while. When she came back she told us she had one of her tonsils taken out. They were both really bad, but she only had to have one removed because the other one just came out by itself. She said she just spit it out on the porch one morning.

I don’t remember everybody who went to school at Gift during the few years I did, but the ones I do remember, I have mostly good memories of them. The teachers, and the students I met there, all affected my life in some sort of way, and I’m glad to have known each one of them.

*Bill, In The Woods, With The Rope

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If you ever attended Gift school, I’d like to connect with you on Facebook, or by email. Maybe you can share a few of your own memories, and pictures if you have any. Thanks for reading. Looking forward to hearing from you.

Email: teddylynn@mail.com

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Note: Although it looks a bit like what I remember, the picture for this post is not of Gift School. Sorry, I don’t have one. If you do, please share it with me. Thanks.

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© 2016 Teddy Lynn – All Rights Reserved

My books are available in paperback and digital format on Amazon @ 
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