Why Do People Have Children ?

by: Carmen H. Wilkinson

As a small child I sometimes pondered ‘Why do people have Children?’ Growing up one thing I noticed early on was my grandmother had a large family. When I say a large family, well she was one of ten and she had six children of her own. On top of her own children she helped take care of her grandchildren and her ailing mother. When my grandfather’s mother was ill she too moved to our county along with her daughter who at the time didn’t work. My grandmother helped to raise and support many people other than just her and her husband. I don’t ever remember my grandmother working outside of home but she worked in the garden and in the kitchen. In her spare time she would crochete or sew. When she finished working in the family garden she was always eager to share some of her fresh vegetables with a friend, relative, or neighbor.
I remember my Aunt the youngest child of my grandmother’s helping to take care of me a lot as a small child. I can remember her helping to make sure I had bath water ran and that I went to sleep on time. I also remember helping her sweep the floors and wash dishes. I remember my Aunt helping with alot of things. She was the youngest of my grandmother’s six children. At night time when I stayed at my grandmother’s home I would have to sleep in my Aunt’s room. Sometimes I slept in her bed but if it was more than one grandchild staying over I may have to sleep on a pallet on the floor.
Every Sunday after church someone always came to my grandmother’s home to visit. I remember there was always food on the table and lots of company. You never knew who would show up for a Sunday meal. Of course it was usually one of my grandmother’s many siblings and often times their children and grandchildren. They would come to visit with their ‘mother’ who was bedridden and well taken care of by my grandmother. I still wandered why people had children.
Sometimes the conversations on the front porch would revolve around things from the ‘Good ole Days’ as they called it. My grandmother’s brother and she or her sisters would talk about days of ole gone by when they were growing up. They would discuss milking a cow before school or working a garden. They would talk about ways their mother would nurse them when they cut their toe. They’d talk about taking a sweet potato in a paper sack for lunch to school. All of these stories seemed interesting and so long ago.
When I grew up I had children of my own. Luckily my grandmother was still living. She no longer had a large crowd every single Sunday for dinner. She claimed she couldn’t even make home made biscuits any more. I grew up eating her hot buttered biscuits. I loved them as much as I adored her sweet tea.
As a child I always knew I would some day like to be a mother. The idea of having a family of my own appealled to me. I suppose in some ways I tried to rush growing up. I wanted a husband to love me and children to love. I figured if I had children that I would be such a good mother that I would always be loved.
One day I got really sick. I had actually been sick for a while and had made several trips to the doctor. My health continued to decline and I was extremely weak. After realizing the doctor I had been seeing was not in a rush to take my health serious I decided it was time to go else where. I wound up in a nearby hospital and they took my health very serious. It was a good thing too because I nearly died. Upon entering that hospital, although I had been to the other one the day before and to my dr. the day before that; I was admitted. Once admitted I was given a total of four pints of blood over a two day period and then a much needed hysterectomy.
I honestly didn’t think I was going to live through surgery and I had cried myself to sleep the night prior to surgery. Between the loss of blood and the fear of being put to sleep I was engrossed with fear.
It was the same aunt who helped bathe me as a small child that took me to the hospital and let my husband know what the doctor’s where doing with me. My husband got my two children off to school and immediately was at my side. The next several days the last thing I could worry about was my children. I loved them. My only concern was not being able to see them grow up which broke my heart. I was seriously that close to death.
My oldest child was 18 and my youngest was 9. It was my oldest child who brought my youngest child to see me. Both of my children helped do their own laundry and pack lunches. My husband stayed with me the night of surgery and my 18 year old made sure my 9 year old got off to school on time the next day.
Luckily I did survive surgery and I came home the day after. Upon returning home my children and my husband all pitched in. My youngest child would get clothes out of the dryer and do other little errands for me. My oldest son cooked dinner and took out garbage and washed dishes. My husband attended to my every whim. They each made sure that I didn’t pick up anything over five pounds or lift anything above my head.
Recently I was talking to a friend who had a surgical procedure where metal plates where put into her neck. She too has a child. She was telling me how wonderful her daughter had been with helping her. She had also been sick from the medication she was given and her daughter called for help when her mother needed rushing back to the hospital.
Upon my conversation with my friend I reflected back over my entire life span. It was during those times of reflection I realized why people have children. Of course people have children to carry on the family name and to have heirs. They have children because they love their spouse and they want a family of their own. People also have children and love and protect them and take care of them so when they need the nurturing returned it will be done. I am certain few people if any feel that way, it is farrest from their mind. I am a firm believer though, if you love and nurture your family then in your time of need, they too will love and nurture you. They will not desire to do so not just because it is the ‘Right Thing to Do.’ They will simply do it because they love you and they will love you because you loved them first! That my friend is why people have children! It like anything else good in life, it all begins and ends with love. Same way my grandmother took care of her mother who had taken care of my grandmother as a small child.

What Moves Ya?

In so many ways one can be like a child. Easily excited by the most simple things. With some their olfactory senses control their moods and drive their ambitions. They may smell that sweet smell of fresh cut grass and it bring a smile to their normal downturned lips. Others may hear a frog singing as they drive through a back country road.  To some their passion is in just being near those they love, whether family or their family pet.

Everyone has something that touches their heart. Everyone has something that ‘moves them’. The sad reality is sometimes those things that move you get lost in this world because you are so busy ”adulting”.  It is imperative that you take the time and enjoy life. Life is just a vapor, Exactly the way the good Book describes it! Poof! It’s here today and gone tomorrow.

There is a cliché that says growth and change can be painful. I have never had any kind of growth or change in my personal life that wasn’t! Sometimes in order to preserve your own family, your own happiness you have to set healthy boundaries with some very unhealthy people. Often time that is met with resistance. It’s ok. With time, faith, love and patience, everything comes to full circle.

Allow the things that ‘move you’ to be the things you cherish and and focus on. Whether it is watching a sunset or your favorite program on television. It doesn’t matter. Everyone has their own thing. The only time to get scared is when nothing can ‘move you’ anymore and you become apathetic.

When Your The Younger Woman

Dealing with less than kind adult step Children

by: Carmen Wilkinson

You have heard it said that dealing with step children can be difficult. You are not their parent. If you are wise you never try and take that person’s place, simply put You can’t. The same way a dog will love it’s master no matter what the master does to it, kick it, beat it, starve it, children cling to their parents. Now imagine that you inherit almost grown step children. That my friend is a whole new ball of wax. But, what if not only are those children almost grown you are only 10 years older than them? That my friend can be a MONSTER.

First off, you can not choose who you love. I know a young woman whose husband is fifteen years older than she. She is wife number three and had nothing to do with her husband and his first wife divorcing. She fell in love with him and they got married when she was 30. She was so happy to inherit his children because she loves children. He always spoke well of his daughter and she couldn’t wait to meet her. She had met the son when he was 13. The son was a cool kid and she adored him too.

At first glance she thought, “Wow. I’ll have someone to go shopping with and we can do some fun girl stuff life will be great.” Sadly, this wife had no idea her step daughter was a selfish, narcissist bitch. From day one this step daughter began showing major signs of disrespect. She and her husband were too blind to see it.

The husband spent countless hours working on painting the girl a car for her highschool graduation. He found a small car that belonged to a grandma and bought it. It had good tires and ran good. He was so excited. He painted it with love and care. He took the entire engine apart, added new hoses, went over it with a fine tooth comb. Gave it to her and she was not so happy with it. It wasn’t long and she wrecked it. He fixed it and gave it back. Then she cracked the head and he fixed it and gave it back. Then she messed it up again and he bought it back from her. She wanted something better.

The wife still loved the step daughter and tried everything she could to include the girl in their family life. When the girl got married the wife threw her a shower and invited people. She gave the girl thank you notes, stamps and envelopes. She gave the girl addresses. All she asked was that the girl send out thank yous. People started telling the step mom that they never got a ”Thank You” note. The step mom EVEN invited the real mom who didn’t even speak to her at the shower.

Time went on and the dad and the step mom allowed the girl to live in their rental property. They asked that she pay her lights and water and garbage bill. Otherwise, it was rent free. The girl never paid anything. Then the girl and her her husband moved out. Soon she had a child. After that she quit speaking to the dad or the step mom. Her child was 2. The step mom had exhausted all attempts. The father went to the see his daughter and she wouldn’t speak to him.

She kept her child out of his life. Then she divorced her husband and remarried. She invited everyone in her father’s family except her father, his wife, her adopted half brother and her baby brother who was a year older than her own child. She made sure that noone told her father about the marriage. This was the lowest of the lows. Meanwhile the step son had been close with his Father and his step mom. But even he succumbed to her poison. He and his sister had been best friends. He had a much higher moral character and was more laid back.

It didn’t matter that the mother in law had talked about how horrible wife one was. It didn’t matter if the step mom had heard horror stories about how wife one treated her children. It didnt matter that the step mom was told that the mom of her step children had them living in filth and they had to fen for themselves. She had been deplorable to her children and initially lost custody of them. NONE of that mattered.

All that mattered was the step daughter hurting her father and step mother, ignoring her half brother and acknowledging she had any family connection with her father and his new family.

Who knows why? It doesnt matter. The point is, If you are a step parent remember:

1. The kid doesn’t hate you because you are you they hate you becausee you love their parent.
2. The step child has unresolved demons they are dealing with and perhaps they never will come to grips with them.
3. If your spouse can live without them in their life, you certainly can.
4. You do not under any circumstances have to put up with harrasment of any kind .

A Little Secret Off The Natchez Trace

Brandon Hall

by Carmen Wilkinson

When I was a teenager my grandparents took my cousin and I on a vacation. We road all the way up the Natchez Trace from Natchez, Mississippi to Tennessee. It was a beautiful ride. The speed limit on the trace is 50 MPH and is strictly enforced, so it was of course a slow ride.

As an adult I have enjoyed visiting the trace with my husband and children. Sometimes just my husband and sometimes all of us. Over this past weekend I had the pleasure of attending a wedding at a place called, ‘Brandon Hall’. The road to Brandon Hall is called, ‘Brandon Hall Road’, and it is to the right not far after you get on the trace.

Brandon Hall Plantation is beautiful. It has a narrow entrance between two hills lined with trees. The road looks like it was dug out through the hills. Once you get closer to the home you can see beautiful live Oaks. There is a pond with a fountain. High up on the hill you see the main house. It is gorgeous.

The wedding I attended was outside. It was right in front of a beautiful live Oak. There was a spray of roses that was draped across a limb. To the left was a lady singing and a man playing the keyboard. To the right was the sound of the fountain from the pond. The temperature was perfect and it was the most beautiful venue I have ever attended for a wedding.

Once the vows were exchanged everyone walked through the main house to the court yard in the back. There was another building were food was served. Tables were lined with cloths and set with candlelight. It was so beautiful.

If you looked down the hill you could see a cottage right after you passed through a walk way lined with wisteria vine. It was the most beautiful scenery my eyes have seen in a long time.

I had no idea this place even existed. It just goes to show, just when you think you have discovered everything in your own back yard, there is always something you have never seen before. Take the time to look around your own state, county, even neighbor hood. You never know what you may discover. Don’t put off going to weddings either, you just may feel like your on vacation!

Once the wedding was over I did a little digging. It appears this beautiful place is actually on the pilgrimage tour in Natchez, Mississippi. Not only that it is a bed and breakfast. I would have never known it existed had I not done an RSVP. Brandon Hall definitely gets thumbs up from me!

Five Minutes

A little icing on the Cake

by: Carmen Wilkinson

So today I baked a cake. Nothing special. A store bought mix. I did add a little dab of pure Mexican vanilla. I don’t know what the big deal is about the Mexican Vanilla. To me vanilla seems to taste like vanilla. I actually prefer clear vanilla. So back to the cake.

The cake was baked in an aluminum cake pan. One of the old fashioned pans with a hole in the center. Great for making bunts or pound cakes. You get the idea.

So, after the cake was baked and cooled, I placed it neatly on a plate. Then smeared some store bought icing. I don’t know what is going on with that darn store bought icing. It use to taste fabulous no matter what flavor you used. That’s another story for another day.

So here I am with my cake that has a hole in the center. The cake has beautiful icing smeared over the top. It just does not look like something good to eat. It is missing something. What must I do?

The idea hits me like a light bulb switched on. I will add something to my cake. I take a stick of butter, a few clumps of frozen brown sugar, and some fresh pecans then I put them in a small boiler. I melt all of the ingredients and then pour it over the top of my cake.

As the warm mixture drizzles over the cake I realize I have more of a liquid than expected. I then poke holes in my cake and allow the gooey, yummy goodness to drizzle into the cake.

Now this cake looks amazing. It kind of favors home made. In reality it is home made but I used a mix. It is yummy to the eyes. By the time my family comes home it has really absorbed all the tasty flavors. Before supper, half the cake is gone!

It took me less than five minutes to perfect my icing. It took my family less than that to eat half the cake! Always be Creative!

A Day Unopened

An entire day that slipped Away

by: Carmen Wilkinson

What happens if your alarm doesn’t wake you up? What if the coffee pot goes on strike and the dog didn’t scratch on the door to go outside for a morning poo? What if you climb back in bed after a quick trip to the shining bowl where you go every morning upon first waking?

You climb back in bed. Pull the covers up. Fears of every unimaginable demon from your past circulating in your head. You look to sleep for comfort.

Sleep, ah beautiful sleep. You close those drowsy eyes and welcome sleep like an envelope of a long love letter. The room is cool. Darkness settles in. You feel your muscles twitching and you find comfort in your best friend, sleep.

That is the same as not opening up your day. That is how an entire day can slip away. Don’t be the one who lets that happen. No matter how heavy your arms feel. No matter how sad your heart is. Get up. Find a way to make that coffee. Get dressed, go out and have a cup of coffee at the local bistro. Pet that dog! Make that bed. Do something. For heaven’s sake, by a new alarm clock if you must.

Time is the most precious thing any of us have. It is a gift that we often take for granted. Time can’t be bottled up. It can’t be stopped. It is ever moving. As long as the sun allows the earth to roll around, time goes on.

So what if you have problems! We all do! So what if your step kids act like the spawn of Satan and you look at your husband or wife and wonder where they came from. So what if you aren’t as thin as you were 20 years ago. Do not let the day go unopened. Each day is a gift. Please appreciate your gift. I believe time comes from the Almighty. The maker of time, God himself. You may want to even thank Him for allow you to wake up today.

With all this said, “Have a Good day!”

The Opiod Crisis From My Point of View

A net cast on the Innocent and aging

by Carmen Wilkinson

So there is a horrible crisis in America. I do not know the statistics. What I do know is innocent people are suffering. Doctors are making comments like, “My hands are tied.” Doctors, trained licensed medical professionals are scared to do what they went to school to do, practice medicine.

Why am I writing this article? I know a man and 4 different women who have been affected in a negative way by the new laws. I will tell each story one at a time.

1. The Man He suffers from a chronic illness in addition to depression. He does not abuse his medications. He is a kind person. He had to decide if he wanted his depression medication or his pain medication. This is a loving father, and grandfather. Someone who has always been the type of person you admire, respect, and look up too. He will do anything in his ability to help anyone. Now he has to suffer because he has to make a hard decision. Why? Because he is a victim of the Opiod Crisis. He is a victim

2. The Women – I shall refer to them as A,B, C, and D

Woman A was bit by a dog. She went to the clinic and was treated by a Nurse Practitioner. She treated for pain and given antibiotics, stitches, ibuprofen 800 and another pain medication. The wounds were deep. The pain was severe. She noticed after two days her pain level was higher and the wound appeared to be swollen and infected. She phoned her sister who is an R.N. (Registered Nurse), in a different state.She sent a photo to her sister. Her sister suggested the stitches may be too tight. Woman A went back to the nurse practitioner. The N.P. noticed her blood pressure was high. Woman A told her it was probably directly related to the pain. The N.P. then began to tell her she was going to have to be drug tested before they could give her more pain medication. Woman A told the N.P. that she was paying for everything out of pocket and was not fixing to pay for a drug test. Finally the N.P. consulted with a doctor who suggested the stitches may need to be cut. They cut the stitches to loosen them up and immediately Woman A felt some relief. Woman A felt like she was treated like a drug seeker, when in fact her only concern was getting better and not suffering in the process. She was afraid she would get a bad infection and possibly loose her foot or leg. She was not a pain seeker but was treated as such.

Woman B

Woman B has never drank, smoked, or barely said a cuss word. She is educated and holds down a great job she loves. She has a family she adores. She is taking care of business. Unfortunately, Woman B has health issues. She has had all kinds of issues with her lungs. She has had many other issues. She has to take Lyrica for her pain. Each month she has to go to a doctor and pay for a drug test so she can continue her Lyrica. Good job or not going to the doctor not only takes away your time but your out of pocket expenses. She gladly goes because she needs her medication. She is the type of person who would not ever abuse anything or anyone, let alone even try a drug. Due to this Opiod Crisis, it is effecting her time and money. Who is benefiting from all these drug test? The insurance? The drug manufacturers?

Woman C

Woman C is bed and home bound. She has no muscle mass and has a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. She has been bed bound for about 13 years. On and off of hospice. It causes her severe pain to be moved. Now Hospice has dropped her because she has no decline in health. Her daughter is frantically trying to find a doctor to do house calls. The one doctor she finally located said, “My hands are tied. Because of all the new laws I can’t make a house call to provide a pain patch.” Woman C’s only option is to suffer and be moved by ambulance to a clinic each month or just go without her pain medication. Either choice will cause suffering and Woman C will decline. Who knows, if she hurts enough and declines enough maybe Hospice will take her back. It is a heart breaking situation.

Woman D

Woman D is a wife and mother whom is a positive member of society. She suffers from anxiety. Each year she has a small battle with depression. She cannot take anti depressants because they make her suicidal. She knows this. She went to over 5 different doctors. She was completely honest with them. She spent close to fifteen hundred dollars trying to get a LEGAL prescription for the lowest dose possible of Xanax. No doctor would give her the prescription. They gave her other medications, they billed her insurance. They took her money with a smile. She still suffers from anxiety. When it hits her it is crippling. She has withdrawn away from many things and people she loves. She can not find one doctor to write her prescription. She found that a couple of glasses of wine or beer ease the uneasiness in her chest but she is not fond of alcohol. She didn’t want to have an ongoing prescription either. She just didn’t want to suffer. She will probably continue to suffer the rest of her life.

Do we have an opiod crisis? Absolutely. Is the approach helping? I am sure it is. Sadly, many people are suffering because the approach to help is to broad. I live in a very small area. I don’t know thousands of people. Each of these I have spoken of, I do know. What can be done? How can doctors get back their ability to use good sound judgement? Where did the crisis come from and who is benefiting from it?

The School Bus Ride

And out the window I Flew

By: Carmen Wilkinson

As a small child I hated riding the school bus. We had to sit in assigned seats. It was always too hot or too cold. We couldn’t talk, eat candy or chew gum. When first getting on the bus every morning, I was so very tired. It seemed as if the ride would never end.

Sometimes big kids would get on the bus. I had never seen black children before. There was this one kid who made me smile but I was always scared of him because he was black. Looking at society today it seems really bizarre but that was a different time and place.

When he road the bus it made me happy. He carried a radio on his side and always had this song playing. It was loud and it sounded great. I had never even heard that type of music before. Now, that I am grown I know that was Michael Jackson’s song, ‘Beat It.’ Listening to that was the highlight of my bus ride.

When that kid didn’t ride the bus , which was often, it was just another drab ride like all the others. I tried to sit against the window. I would prop my little head against the glass and watch as the houses seemed to roll by like they were on a convector belt. When we got to a house that was up on a hill and all you could see was the driveway and the roof top, I would try my best to see. I’d stretch my neck and squint my eyes. I never did see the yard or what the house looked like for that matter.

I was in first grade when all of these memories formed. By the time I was in first grade my family had already moved four times that I knew of. It made it hard to ever have a sense of stability and I never questioned if that’s what families did. Just pack up and move always looking for a ‘better place’ to live.

As the bus rolled on by it would pass by one, two, three of the different places I had lived. I saw the China Man’s store too. My family was too proud to ask for food stamps. I heard that you could actually buy gas, beer, and cigerrettes with food stamps at China Man’s store. All my daddy ever bought was a paper for himself and a coke and candy bar for me.

When the bus rolled past the China Man’s store this day I reflected back on trips to the store with my Daddy. We would walk there almost daily from our town house. It had been my favorite place to live. It had an upstairs, downstairs and a half bath downstairs. It was super nice. It also had a community swimming pool and a pool club house. I had loved living there. I also loved getting to walk with Daddy to China Man’s every day.

As I reflected on the old memories I looked up at the window my head leaned against. Taking notice of how it let down was easy. My head was right there and the let down peace was in plain site. The bus was already hot and humid even if it was the morning. As China Man’s store began to fade my imagination came alive.

I closed my eyes and could still see everything as it was. There was of course one exception. I now had the window down. I could tell by the size of the window it would be easy as pie for me to slip right through. That is just what I did. I flew out the window and back to the little gas station on the corner, China Man’s. It all happened so fast the bus driver didn’t know what happened.

I was flying and it felt so nice. I had a big old smile to replace my previous somber look. As I flew I whirled around and around. Not like a bird, more like a Kite being torn in the wind. As soon as a patron opened the glass door I flew inside the store. I grabbed a couple of candy bars. You should have seen the look on China Man’s face. He knew me but didn’t know I could fly! I smiled and waved and dropped my lunch money to pay for my snacks.

By that time the bus driver had turned around and come back. She opened the door to the store. All the kids were peering out the windows of the bus. I guess they told her where I was. As she opened the door I flew out, right above her head. I flew back in the bus and she got back on.

Now we were going to be late for school. The bus was back rolling again. I could hear the driver murmuring and all the kids were cheering. One kid wanted to know how I learned hot to fly. One kid told me that was more interesting than the boom box that the high school kid brought on the bus daily. I never said a word. I just smiled. Then I heard a screeching sound and swoosh. The familiar jolt of the bus stopping. I opened my eyes. I was at school. I looked down and still had my lunch dollar. No candy bars in my hand. “Looks like I gotta eat that yuck again,” I mumbled as I yawned and got off the bus. Still groggy from no sleep the night before and not enough sleep on the bus. The End ——-

WTH ?

WHAT THE HECK ? by Carmen Wilkinson

It’s late. Friday night, nope, it’s actually Thursday. The stars are in the sky? Nope, it’s cloudy. Is it really? How late is it? It’s after midnight. Nope. Wrong again. It isn’t even 11:30. Nothing makes sense? Ha! Wrong again. It all makes sense.

Persistently trying to jump through a hoop you can not even see. How crazy is that? Pretty crazy huh? Well? Is there something wrong with your grammar? Maybe your spell check isn’t working. Did you miss your period? Oh, I ask that with a question mark. Was I referring to English or Science. The guys want understand. Ha, I was just proven correct.

Is it a poem? A writing? A journal? Does it matter? WTH is an algorithm? I don’t know but you can’t eat them. Yeah? Maybe you can. I suppose it just depends. Maybe not. OK.

If you read this far you ‘ve read farther than most. It’s all just WTH ?

The Foreign Blossom

What do foreign students need from their Peers?

by: Carmen Wilkinson

Today I had an amazing opportunity to speak with a young lady from the Philippines. She is in the United States with a Student Visa. She came to the U.S. three years ago with her mother who was on a Work Visa. She attended high school and graduated here. Now she is in college studying to be a nurse. When she isn’t in school she is working a part time job. Her hobbies include photography and traveling.

For anonymity purposes I will just call her ‘Jewel’. She is definitely a jewel! Jewel spoke with a smile on her face as she pushed back her raven black hair. She looked like any other college freshman. She had a smile as big as the Texas Star and energy that bubbled up from a fountain of unending happiness.

As we continued to converse I asked her a few questions about life here in the United States. Jewel said she didn’t really start to blossom until she got to college. During her highs school years she was very much an introvert. She went on to share that she has met several foreign students from different areas and they all seem to be introverted. I thought that was a neat observation and couldn’t help but pry. Jewel went on to say, “When we come here we have left everything we know and love. It is not always that easy to make friends.” I pondered over that for a moment. She continued on to say, ” I love the United States and really hope to obtain my citizenship some day. I think if I had one piece of advice for American students, it would be to be supportive of foreign students. We need other’s to reach out to us. I spent most of my junior and senior year of high school inside. I didn’t go outside during breaks and such. I stayed to myself or stayed in the classrooms. I had only one friend and we are still friends to this day.”

After the conversation was over I reflected back over it later. That was some of the most simple yet deep advice to give. American parents are often trying to think of ways to teach our children how to be better members of society. We teach about bullying and not excluding anyone. This is an entire different way of viewing things though. Do we even realize there just might be a foreign student attending school with our children who feels ‘left out’? Lonely and isolated is not a good way for anyone to feel. Students need to realize that everyone has value. Even if you haven’t known someone since you were in the first grade, that’s O.K. Get to know them! I learned many things she and I had in common just from five minute conversation.

I am certain if you or your children take the time to converse with students from foreign lands you both will find you have some things you have in common. Maybe some of the same interest. You may both like cooking, or eating. Perhaps you both like shoes. If you take the time to initiate conversation I am willing to bet you will find some mutual interest. That is all it takes to spark up a friendship.

Jewel is super sweet. She is smart and has really blossomed. Maybe it is because she did have that one friend. Would things have been different if she didn’t have a friend at all? She has a 3.8 GPA so she is obviously willing to put in the work.

I encourage students please, be the one to reach out to that foreign student. Maybe your not a student but a parent. Speak with your child about how to make friends with new kids at school. It is understandable, especially in small towns, there are clicks. They have always existed and always will. But there are no rules saying you can’t add someone to your circle of friends If we want to make not just America a better place, but the world, we can do this by showing Love. That love starts by being a friend. How hard is it to include someone?

This same young lady who was shy and stayed to herself has found her way. She is blossoming into a wonderful person with an amazing career path ahead. She may be the very one who saves your life, or even your future children, or a family member’s life. You never know what the future holds for you or the next person. I challenge you to be the one to support the one!