Corrie

This afternoon Amy was upstairs watching The Hiding Place. I brought her some mint tea, since she's still sick, and stayed to watch for a few minutes, but then I had to leave because I couldn't stand it.

I cannot imagine doing what the ten Booms did. Working with the Dutch Underground, taking in Jews, living with raw fear and extreme risk every minute of every day. Today they are honored in many ways. Israel named Corrie "Righteous among the nations," the Queen of the Netherlands knighted her, and there's a museum in the family's honor.

What fascinates me is that if it hadn't been for the Holocaust, probably no one outside their community would ever have heard of them. They were quite ordinary: an old Dutch watchmaker and his two spinster daughters. True, they were well-known locally through their business and also in charity work with the handicapped, children, and the elderly, but nothing that would have warranted their own Wikipedia page.

So, how they lived when life was ordinary prepared them for when life was hideously extraordinary. I don't think I need to say there's a lesson there for us.

Excitement, Sickness, and Heroics

We are still battling sickness on all fronts but I am trying to tell myself my life is exciting anyhow. And I have to say it has its moments. . .

Last night around 11pm my cell phone beeped its text-message beep. I was already in bed and almost asleep but of course my eyes flew wide open as I imagined, in a split second, that Emily had taken a turn for pneumonia and Matt was in a bad accident and well, you know how we moms are.

It was a message from Matt: "Is it true that turkeys can drown if they look up while its raining?"

I looked it up on Snopes.com. That theory is false. I let him know.

This morning I went around inspecting throats with a flashlight and evaluating the sick folks for the umpteenth time. "Mom missed her calling; she should have been a doctor," said one of the children. Paul felt awful but didn't have a fever. He thought he should go to school. I talked him into also going to the doctor for a strep swab. It was positive. Amy insisted she's well enough to teach school but by the time she came home her fever was up. Unfortunately the clinic was closed by then. Ben slept in a bit this morning but decided he's well enough to venture out.

Steven, who got where he is today only because he has an immune system like a brick wall, is still fine. (I mean, how else would a motherless kid survive bouts of malaria and who knows what else while on the streets?) Yes, actually Steven is very fine. This afternoon I got a few things at the Mennonite store, including a plastic bag of whole wheat flour. Steven was helping me put this stuff away, so naturally he tossed this bag in the air on his way to the cupboard. The timid little twistie came off of course and, Folks, it is unreal how far and wide a few cups of flour can go. All over Steven, my papers, the floor, the phone, the Life game Paul and the kids were playing, and even more. He cleaned for a long time, and thought he was all done, and then a couple of hours later glanced up and realized there was even flour on the clock.



This brings to mind his uncle Philip, who I am told once tossed a jar of applesauce in the air in this very kitchen, and it hit the ceiling and broke. Don't ever tell me adopted kids aren't hand-picked to fit in with their families.

We also had an exciting episode this morning when He Who Has Oft Been Reminded Otherwise was carrying 5 glasses at one time to the dishwasher. He broke two of them in a great clattering disaster that sent a shard of glass clear over to the fridge. One of these years, (please God??) he will get tired of spending his money replacing things he's broken.

Jenny keeps galloping along at full speed.

Meanwhile Emily is slowly recovering. No more fever, but she's very tired. I find it interesting that she and Ben and Paul managed to get strep at pretty much the same time, even though Emz is 3000 miles away. She manages to attend her classes but that's about it.

Part of my exciting life involves dealing with sick people and wishing I could tie them down like Gulliver in Lilliput. There are two kinds of sick people: A) sensible ones like me, who go straight to bed and stay there until they're well, willingly accepting sympathy and pots of tea, and B) those who see illness as a chance to be heroic, brushing off sympathy, insisting they feel better if they're at work, plowing on despite fevers and swollen throats and flushed cheeks as though the enemy will storm the gates if they abandon their posts.

Yes, I am surrounded by the heroic sort. Personally I don't see anything noble in being out and about infecting everyone you see, or anything shameful about staying in bed.

Quote of the Day:
"I'm treating my bad very bookly."
--Steven, reading his literature book

The Tide Turns?

So I posted that my life wasn't very exciting. Things haven't changed a lot in that I am still preoccupied with taking care of the sick ones and trying not to get sick again myself. This narrows one's universe down to a very small radius.

Amy and Ben have both been sick for a few days. Paul has been doing Amy's job at school, but now he's not feeling the best either. Technically none of us is indispensible but Paul and Amy come close.

But, I have this feeling the tide may be turning and my life might be getting a leeeetle more exciting! Consider this:

Today I followed my mom instincts and took Ben to the clinic in Harrisburg and sure enough he has strep throat. Vindication is always nice when you have to dish out $109 whether you're right or wrong.

From there we dropped off newspapers at the Eugene Mission recycle box and went to the post office and mailed some more Reliv to Emily.

I figured Tony at the pharmacy would have Ben's prescription ready by then so I drove over, parked in front, left Ben in the car, and went inside.

When I came out I glanced in the back seat and was surprised that I had left that much junk lying on the seat. Oh well. I opened the door. An old man in the passenger seat looked at me with a very startled expression on his face. I said something very poised and coherent like, "Oh mercy me, I'm sorry!," hastily slammed the door shut, and went to MY car, which was one car to the south.

Poor Ben with his sore throat was rocking back and forth laughing and laughing in a strange strangled croak. He had watched the whole drama unfold and had thought, "No, Mom! No! Not that car!!" But of course I hadn't read his mind.

I plopped down in the car and we both howled. Then I looked out my window and naturally, the other car was still right there beside me, and right there in the nearest window was the old man looking out at me with a very intrigued, amused expression on his face. "Awkward" does not do this situation justice.

I tried to collect my wits enough to start the car and drive home. On the way, Ben reserved the right to tell this story to the rest of the family.

So, yes, I think the tide might be turning and my life might be getting exciting again.

Quote of the Day:
"Did you invite the old man to church? Gods plan, It werent no accident!"
--Simon K., in a Facebook comment, when I posted this episode in a status update. Simon, that'll be the day if I ever have such presence of mind in such a situation.

Sermons n Such

I get bored easily during sermons/speeches/talks if they don't really engage me. I tend to blame this on the speaker. Yes, I know I ought to listen even if I don't feel like it, and honestly I try, but doesn't the speaker have some responsibility to quit using so many words, and to make it a little more practical with a few real-life experiences thrown in and to vary his tone of voice?

But. Recently Paul was preaching and a few rows in front of me were two brothers who were very involved with the family's newest little granddaughter and as a result didn't listen to the sermon at all. Now I like a guy gushing over a baby, that's wonderful And I will grant the baby was a cutie and I wouldn't have minded holding her myself. But it made me flame up inside to have my husband up there preaching an interesting sermon that he worked hard at, and these folks not listening.

So. Was it Paul's job to be more interesting than the distractions? Or were these guys' hearts in the wrong place? And where does that put me? Surely there's some kind of middle ground of shared responsibility, and I'm wondering where others define it, for themselves and others.

Quote of the Day:
"They don't talk like normal people talk. They talk like Smuckers talk in an argument."
--Emily, on how actors project their voices

Today's Column...

...is yet more rehashing of our bout with H1N1, which is as creative as you get when you have to write something before you're quite recovered.

Here it is.