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Archive for the ‘Slice of Life’ Category

Slice of Life: A Newborn Christmas

Posted in being mamére, Slice of Life, tagged , , , on December 27, 2022| 15 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
June Margaret and mother Martha

I was prepared for this to be a different Christmas. My youngest daughter’s first child was due on Dec. 19th, so I took off the 19th and 20th and drove to her home to be with her and her husband. She had a scheduled induction on Tuesday, Dec. 20th. I will not go into the details of the whole process, but Martha handled the long labor like a champ. When at 11:30 PM, she was ready to push, my middle daughter turned to me and pointed to her watch. We realized that the baby would be born on her great grandfather’s birthday. She came into the world at 12:39 on Dec. 21st.

My first look at this new baby girl confirmed our suspicions that she would be a big baby. She even had jelly rolls on her legs. Later we found out she weighed 9 lbs. 5 oz.!

Martha and Paul did not reveal her name until she was born. I anxiously waited while Martha said she needed to hold her before she would name her. With the baby in her arms, she turned to me and said, “Her name is June Margaret.” My heart melted.

Margaret is a name that was given to me by my mother to honor her mother who passed away 3 months before I was born. I’ve always thought of my grandmother Margaret as a guardian angel. We named our first daughter Margaret and call her Maggie. When Maggie didn’t use the name for her daughter, I thought that was the end of the line. I never imagined that Martha would choose it. Once Martha knew she was having a girl, she told us that the baby’s name was one syllable. That put me into a rabbit hole of one syllable girl names. June never appeared on my list. And neither did Margaret.

I know Baby June will grow into her name and give it her own personality. The legacy of Margaret is with her. But even without the gift of the name, this child is in my heart.

While she was being born, we played Martha’s Christmas playlist. One of the songs was “Breath of Heaven” by Amy Grant. In that moment, all was quiet. I looked over at the doctor, a small petite woman, who was swaying back and forth as I was. We felt the presence of God in the room. Birth is a holy moment.

One hymn that has been playing in my head was featured in Presiding Bishop Michael Curry’s Christmas message: “Love came down at Christmas. Love all lovely. Love divine. Love was born at Christmas. Star and angel gave the sign. Love came down at Christmas.”

June Margaret is a Christmas miracle. She is love divine. She is a pure angel.

I attended Christmas Eve service at Christ Cathedral in New Orleans. In her first Christmas message as bishop of Louisiana, Bishop Shannon Rogers Duckworth told us to embrace the small moments. I pray this first Christmas with June will stay with me as one of those gems, the small moment of holding pure love and being a witness to the love of my daughter with her husband and their new not-so-tiny newborn.

Breath of Heaven

A winter solstice
A holy birth
Total darkness
shines with June light.

Margaret Simon

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Slice of Life: Tree Climbing

Posted in Slice of Life, Teaching, Writing, tagged , on November 8, 2022| 8 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

On Friday, we took our students on a field trip to Bluebonnet Swamp in Baton Rouge. Because it is a natural preservation site, we were not allowed to picnic on the grounds. We piled back into the bus to travel a few miles to another park. When we pulled up, a student yelled out, “I don’t see the playground.”

They were right. It was a vast green space with a pavilion, picnic tables, and a track. After we finished eating, I offered a walk to some students. We walked down a hill to a ravine and found a large live oak with its branches draping over the ground and ravine. The branches reached low enough for climbing.

And climbing was what they did. As though the tree herself had invited them on. Despite my little nag on my teacher shoulder, I let them go. Years ago when I was raising young children, I remember my sister-in-law allowing her daughter to climb a tree. I questioned her. She said, “Climbing gives her body confidence.” I was holding onto this as I watched these students in all their confident bodies climb all over the tree like cautious ants. They really did seem to know if they could do it.

No one fell. No one got hurt. Not one of them got wet. I released my held breath and patted my teacher-shoulder. On the way back up the hill to the bus, one of the students yelled out, “This is the best. field. trip. ever!”

Tree climbing, body confidence

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Slice of Life: Butterfly Whisperer

Posted in Slice of Life, Teaching, Writing, tagged , , on October 25, 2022| 11 Comments »

You park in the same spot.
You walk the same hall,
see the same faces, but one day,
a child opens her hands to show you
a butterfly, and suddenly,
you become a part of her wonder.

You invite her to go outside.
“Let’s find a flower to feed the butterfly.”
You open Google and take a photo.
Images pop up identifying the beautiful wings
as “Gulf fritillary or Passion butterfly.”

Other children gather round
and pass the gentle butterfly hand to hand.

In your mind, you know this is not a good sign.
The butterfly is not viable, yet one student squeals,
“I’ve never seen a butterfly so close up!”
Others whisper, “Wow!”
“It’s so soft!”

Wonder continues, grows, swells,
so the poor fritillary becomes a subject
to study, a specimen for children’s eyes.

You decide it’s an honor
to be known as the butterfly whisperer.

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Slice of Life: Fun with Dot Day!

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Teaching, Writing, tagged , , , , , on September 20, 2022| 10 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

The decorating theme at one of my schools this year is books, so I chose to depict one of my favorite books, The Dot. I celebrate Dot Day every year with my students, but this year I adopted the whole school, sort of. I sent out an invitation to teachers to sign up to send 4 kids to my room at recess time. (I only have 4 chairs around a single table.) I had wonderful participation and have had so much fun working with a variety of grade levels. With the older kids I opened up sets of watercolors and set out paper plate dots. For the younger ones, I gave them a coffee filter to decorate with markers. I then sprayed them with water so that the ink spread for a cool looking result.

With my gifted students, I made Dot Zeno Zines. In the spirit of “making a mark and seeing where it takes you”, we drew a design on plain paper. Then we wrote Zeno poems. Zeno is a form created by J. Patrick Lewis that uses the sequence 8, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1 with each one syllable rhyming. I’m not sure which should come first, the first 8-4-2-1 sequence or the rhyming words. We’ve tried both ways. I let the kids struggle somewhat to just figure it out. Sometimes it’s hard to say what you want to say with so many constraints. It’s a process. Process can be messy and imperfect, but when you’ve puzzled it out, it’s rewarding.

Dot Day Zeno

Polka-dotted wings emerging
color-filled spots
red, green,
blue
orange, purple
polka-
dew
flying homeward
toward
you!

Mrs. Simon with help from Avalyn, 3rd grade

To see more student Dot Zeno poems, check out these Fanschool links:

Brayden
Adelyn

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Slice of Life: Kindness

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, tagged , , on August 30, 2022| 4 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

A week ago I had a Mohs procedure on my nose. That means the dermatologist biopsied what I thought was a zit that turned out to be a squamous cell carcinoma. This type of surgery is no big deal to the young “boy scout” who was extremely proud of his suturing technique, but to me, it was uncomfortable and annoying. Ethical ELA was having its monthly Open Write, so the whole thing became a muse for a poem. Scott McCloskey led the exercise in writing about something you were “today years old” when you first learned about it.

Numbed Ignorance

Being a patient is not new to me,
but at today’s years old,
I learned of a procedure for removing
cancer cells off a nose called Mohs.

The young doctor told me
“You’re going to love this!”
as he stitched and stitched
as if there’s anything to love about
his brutal touch, about cancer cells, about a hole in my nose.

Sure I want to be rid of it,
but I carry the sign,
the cross-hatch signature
he was so proud of, the black eye,
the irritant of a bandage on my face.

I am learning that knowledge
is not all it’s cracked up to be.
Just hand me an ice pack
and let me go back to
numbed ignorance.

Margaret Simon, draft

Some people are good at sending cards. I want to be better. It’s a skill I admire. When my daughter’s mother-in-law heard about my little procedure, she sent me a card. I’ve been using Dictionary for a Better World to teach my students about poetry. On Friday, we explored Irene Latham’s poem Belonging which is a pantoum form. I’ve been puzzling with the form ever since. A pantoum is much harder to write than it looks, but here goes…

Kindness

A card came in the mail
addressed especially to me.
As I fingered each detail,
I felt your hand in mine.

Addressed especially for me,
little bear with a bouquet
held his hands out to mine
with caring words to say.

This little bear with bouquet
hopes I’m better by today.
Your kind words do say
someone cares.

You hope I’m better today.
I feel your hand in mine. 
Across the miles you say
in a card that’s in the mail.

Margaret Simon, for Andree
Sweet card from Andree’

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Slice of Life: Snake Eyes

Posted in Slice of Life, tagged , , , on July 19, 2022| 13 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

Last week, my husband and I traveled to Costa Rica for an amazing week of adventures. Generally speaking, I have a fear of snakes that goes back to my childhood living near a creek in Mississippi. Through the years living near the Bayou Teche, I’ve come to appreciate that there are good snakes and bad snakes. That is to say, venomous and nonvenomous, as my naturalist friend corrects me.

While in Costa Rica, we took a fearful walk through the rainforest. It was frightening on many levels, the highest one being that we walked over numerous hanging bridges while rain poured down and thunder rolled in the distance. I did not feel safe. I took it slowly while our guide did not. She rushed us along, thus leaving me and a few other slowpokes behind.

At one point in our rainforest trek, the guide stopped us all to point out a small yellow flower. Yet it was not an exotic flower; it was a venomous snake known as the eyelash viper. I had hoped to see a poison dart frog, but this snake was not on my “want to see” list. I did not take the picture. I stood at a safe distance. The guide took the photo with someone’s iphone and we later airdropped it to everyone.

Eyelash viper, rainforest of Costa Rica

A Google fact search turned up this frightening fact: “Since they can be bold shades of green and yellow, they’ve accidentally been transported to other countries with exported bananas.” Yikes! Can you imagine finding this in your bananas?

Now I am home and on my morning walk, I nearly stepped on this little guy.

Innocent ribbon snake, New Iberia, Louisiana

This small striped ribbon snake is more my speed when it comes to accepting that there are snakes in this world. He’s actually kinda cute, don’t you think? And totally harmless.

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Slice of Life: Say I Love You

Posted in Gratitude, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , , on June 21, 2022| 1 Comment »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

Two months ago today, I took my mother to see my father in the hospital for the last time. He was not responsive. She held his head and kissed it over and over saying, “I love you.” He died the next morning.

I never heard my parents say “I love you” to each other. My father told me he believed that if you said it often, it would lose its meaning. Ten years ago, after he had colon surgery, I vowed to tell them both I love you every time I talked to them on the phone. Mom would respond, “hmm hmm.” Dad would say something like, “me, too.” Over Covid isolation, they finally said an audible “I love you.”

But this doesn’t mean they didn’t love us or each other.

Yesterday in the dining hall of the retirement home, a resident said she’d never seen such a loving family. She said we cradled my mother. I said, “I wish I could cradle her every day.”

Alzheimer’s is trying to take my mother away from us. She knows Dad died. She knows we planted a tree in his memory. She visits it every day. However, when we took her across the hall to look at a one bedroom apartment for her to move into, she said, “Is Dad moving, too?” I hugged her and said, “No, he’s gone. But he’s in your heart.”

My brother said, “Taking up less space.” We laughed. That’s something Dad would say. He loved irony.

Then Mom said, “You suppose I could find another man?” More laughter.

Mom at the Columbarium visiting Dad on Father’s Day.

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Slice of Life: Splash Pad Summer

Posted in Slice of Life, tagged , on June 14, 2022| 6 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

My friend and colleague Erica called me during my Covid days, the last week of school, and asked what she could do to help get my room ready for summer. I told her she could box all the books on the shelves. I have plastic bins for this purpose. She didn’t call me back, so I wasn’t sure if it had been done.

On Monday last week I took Tuffy with me to check on my classroom. I thought I might be there for hours getting it packed up for cleaning. Lucky for us, there was Sophie, the 10 (almost 11) year-old daughter of my principal. She entertained Tuffy while I checked on things. To my pleasant surprise, the only space left to clear was my desktop. All the books were not only boxed, but the bins were neatly stacked over the cubbies. No packing or heavy lifting necessary.

I called Erica to thank her and asked if we could meet somewhere with her daughter (who I taught a few years ago). I wanted to treat her. We decided to meet at a local splash pad. That was the best decision ever. While Erica and I talked, Rylee and Tuffy played.

Tuffy enjoying the shower at the splash pad.

I enjoyed the splash pad so much that I insisted that we meet there on Saturday to play with Leo and Stella. What fun! I made a reel on Instagram of Stella hunting for a ladybug decal.

Because I was sick the last week of school, I did not feel like I had properly said goodbye to my students, so I texted their parents and set up a play time at the splash pad. I brought them bubble sets and bought each a snowball. A perfect day!

One of the lagniappes (a little something extra) of our time together was the relaxed atmosphere for talking with parents. I teach my students year after year while they are in elementary school. Relationships with parents are essential. Without much effort at all, and a lot of fun, the splash pad has saved my life.

Some of my students and me at the splash pad.

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Slice of Life: A Visitor

Posted in Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , on May 31, 2022| 10 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

As I was resting on the sofa in my living room, I heard a light tap on the window. Oh, no, I thought. We’ve had times before that a bird has flown into the window and either died or been stunned. I expected to see a poor thing lying lifeless on the deck, but instead was surprised by fluttering. The little guy flew to a nearby branch and stayed long enough for me to identify him as a Prothonotary Warbler.

I studied this swamp beauty when I was writing Swamp Song (which has yet to find a publisher).

Prothonotary Warbler

Prothonotary warblers live in wooded swamps and forage above slow moving water. They hop among branches of downed trees searching for insects and snails to eat. They are a bright yellow color with blue-gray wings and tail. The male will select a nesting cavity in holes left behind by woodpeckers and chickadees. Prothonotary warblers are declining due to habitat loss. Prothonotary warblers got their names from the bright yellow robes worn by clerks for the Pope in the Roman Catholic Church known as prothonotaries. 

From Swamp Song by Margaret Simon

I am on the council for the T.E.C.H.E. Project as an education consultant, so I called our president who is a biologist and knows about birds. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Patti, I know some people believe their parents come back to them in cardinals, but I think my dad is visiting me in a Prothonotary Warbler.

Patti: Yeah. Yeah?

Me: No, really. This male bird is coming to my window and fluttering wildly. I’m afraid he’s going to hurt himself. What should I do?

Patti: It’s likely a young juvenile who sees himself in the reflection. They are very territorial. He’s stupid. He thinks he sees another bird.

Me: So, he’s just strutting his stuff!

Patti: Yeah, he’s showing off for ya’!

My first thought was my dad was not that kind of guy. Showy. No strut. But he was one who liked to tell jokes and hear people laugh. So before I chased the bird away from the danger of the window, I looked up at his sunny self and smiled! Thanks, Dad!

Prothonotary Warbler in cypress tree. (Not a bad shot for through a window with an Iphone.)

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Slice of Life: Prequel Poems

Posted in Gifted Education, Poetry, Slice of Life, Teaching, tagged , , , , , on May 10, 2022| 6 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

On Poetry Friday, Amy Ludwig VanDerwater posted on The Poem Farm a slide show created by teacher/author Emily Callahan. Her 4th graders have been writing proverb poems after Amy’s. I shared the slide show with my student Chloe. She was inspired to write a prequel to Ms. Callahan’s students’ prequel poems. Here is her Fanschool page, Prequel Crazy.

Here it sits
covered from the rain a chess board
broken into pieces.
I allow access to
the board.
He has found a new home. 
I glue it,
I wash it,
I rinse it,
I dry it,
I wrap it up
and drive along a bumpy road
the perfect gift 
to my daughter
She asks, ” Where did you dig this up from?”
“One man’s trash is another mans treasure
Maybe you can do the same
Like with a blanket?”

Chloe, 6th grade

I wrote alongside Chloe. A poem about my sister’s plan to create a quilt from my father’s shirts. I left the last line blank so I could make it a prequel to Chloe’s. We enjoyed this playful poem making. Thanks, Amy and Emily!

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure”

The girl sees patterns,
pictures in her father’s shirts,
gathered,
sorted,
cut,
stitched
into a quilt of many colors,
into a memory of many hugs,
into a dream of everlasting rest.
She sees more than anyone
a life lived as a husband, a father,
a doctor, an artist, a friend.
She touches every day what he wore,
a treasure in her hands.
Maybe you could do the same.
Maybe with a chess board.

Margaret Simon, draft

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