what happened that year of ’22

8950 W Rd 270
Scott City, KS 67871

Dear friends, readers, and general public,

Yes, I know that by this time you have in all probability read enough Christmas letters to last you well into the coming year and, believe me, so have I. But to close a year without writing a Christmas letter of my own- I simply could not seem to bring myself to do. Therefore, I present to you the somewhat random results of my somewhat scattered mind in the form of ‘another thing to read’ in your already hectic holiday season.

April 24th: I clocked out of Bethel Home one last time, gave a few hugs, took off my mask, and ,yes, shed a few tears. As the sliding double doors squeaked shut behind me, another chapter in life closed too. But I’d like to think that old Bethel Home Kitchen will never forget all the hilarious life-changing events that took place in a short year and a half… I know I never will. Or can for that matter.

May 1st: Deridder, Louisiana. Shala, one of those friends in my life that I owe to Bethel Home, is the beautiful bride. She is happy. Josh is happy. And we are happy too. ‘Ecstatic’ might be more fitting… considering the circumstances.

May 9th: Dad and I are on our way to backpack into Grand Canyon for a few nights. We’ve been looking forward to this since… well, forever, so you can only imagine the energy level in the pickup on the trip down there. One night in a hotel on the South Rim. Hiked down the South Kiabab Trail the next day. (As it turns out, my stride is not the same as a mule’s stride for which the trail is built resulting in what I like to call ‘sewing machine knees’ progressing rapidly into severe leg cramps from the relentless downhill trek. If you know, you know…) A night at the Phantom Ranch Campground on the canyon floor. Wind. Hiked to Ribbon Falls on the North Rim and back and then another night at Phantom Ranch. More wind. Hiked out on the Bright Angel Trail on May 12th. Tired. In desperate need of a shower. Patrick MacManus would call this a “fine and pleasant misery” and he’s right. It is. Words can’t describe the timeless beauty of Grand Canyon. My advice to you? If you get the chance, take it! And, even better, hike down below the rim.

May 22nd: My nephew is six today! Tate, it doesn’t seem so long ago that you believed that the echo in the hallway was a real person yelling back at you from behind the dryer. And singing “All God’s Critters” and “Waltzing Matilda” with me just to annoy Grammy. Now you’re all grown up and in school. Keep singing at the top of your lungs. But not just to annoy Grammy…

June 16th: Plot twist. A message from Scott City, asking if I want a job teaching four first and second graders for the coming year. Well, I thought “No” in the morning. By evening, it was a “Probably”. And now here I am. Teaching in Scott City… loving it.

And also on June 16th: The other little nephew of mine, Tucker Dean, had his first birthday! All I can say is “blue frosting everywhere”. Can’t wait until Tate and I can tell you about ‘Paraphernalia’ (the name the Echo in the Hallway).

July 8th: Infamous whirlwind two weeks begins. Heading to Montezuma for what seems like the hundredth time in the last few months. The next day (which, FYI people at Scott City who insist on giving me so much hash on this particular subject, is the reason for why I always taking my keys out of my car when it’s parked. If you want details, you could just ask Homeland. Actually… please don’t, on second thought…), I and the Homeland youth leave for Walker, Missouri for JJ and Jenny’s wedding. It’s the usual scurry-here-scurry-there wedding weekend. And we enjoy it because we are youth who like scurrying.

July 11th. Tara and I journey to Greensburg, Kansas. Girls’ Preparatory Class. We both overthink everything in the hour and a half it takes to drive to the church resulting in ‘back-out syndrome’, chronically shaking knees, and ‘forgetting-my-own-name disease’. Somehow we made it through introductions. I don’t remember much except that I forgot to say I had a sister and two nephews and ended my little speech very lamely with “so ya…”. Everybody laughed and I was embarrassed. Already. On the first evening.

July 17th: Girls’ Class comes to a close. We’ve learned a lot of valuable things in this week that we’ll hopefully carry with us through the rest of our lives. Hershey’s Chocolate taught us that “hands are meant to be held” against the well-meaning admonitions of our instructor. Mentos gave us a bond that only eating many, many Mentos as quickly as you can will give you. But we learned the real stuff from Rod and Lisa, our instructors. Abby, Anne, Ashley, Carmen, Jolynn, Kariann, Laura, Luann, Sammi, Sonia, Tara, Tasya, Trisha, Tyanne. I miss you all. Good luck on whichever path life leads you down. And don’t forget… we’ll meet at the snack bar!

July 18th: Lori and I leave on the early flight out of Garden City, Kansas bound for Filer, Idaho Teachers’ Prep Class. By this time, my mind is on data overload and I don’t end up catching most of what goes on. Though that might not be saying much, come to think of it, as I have a hard enough time catching everything on a ‘normal’ day. Whatever that is. I don’t know. I wrote a lot of notes. Then I went home and went into hybernation.

August 14th: Scott City, here I come. What I’ve been waiting for is finally here. And, guess what? I’m scared silly. Who are all these people I talk to on the phone? What is the youth group like? What in the world am I getting myself into? Driving lends to overthinking again. Several months later, I am no longer quite as scared. You all treat me great…

August 22nd: School starts today! Jesse, Jaxon, Olivia, Madison, and Savanna, do you have any idea how terrified I am? It’s probably a good thing you don’t.

October 9th: John and Tara’s wedding! It’s come almost too soon for us bridesmaids. But we’ve done are best to accept it because… how could we not?? They look so happy. Now we get to go to their cute little house in Montezuma for supper and gossip sessions. Just like old times… in a new time.

November 13th: Conference Week… twelve of us youth pile into a fifteen-passenger van and head for Tupelo, Mississippi. There are mixed emotions on board. Some are dubious. Some are nervous. Some are on a caffeine high.

November 15th: I walk into the Candence Bank Arena expecting… I have no idea what I am expecting. Over the next three days I run into nearly everybody I’ve ever known in my entire life. A few people I run into so many times it is almost awkward. Like “oh, there you are again…”. Beeline to nowhere in particular. Fade into the crowd. Get out of there. Disappear.

November 18th: Into the van again. It’s a slightly different group on the return trip. Some are tired. Some are quiet. Some are still on a caffeine high. Somehow we must have made it home. I don’t remember much except we ran over an ice chest. On the interstate. In a fifteen-passenger van. And Kassie beat Reese in the Alphabet Game without cheating.

December 16th: The Christmas Program that we’ve practiced for the last three weeks is tonight. I might be more nervous than my students at this point. The last practice didn’t go so good… what if the flame thrower doesn’t work when I need to light those candles on the last song?! What if I forget the sign language to “Silent Night”?! Valid concerns. But they were to no avail. The children pulled off an awesome Christmas Program. My students would groan, but I have to say it; “hard work pays off, y’all”…

December 18th: Home. It’s a great place to be. Correction: it’s the best place to be.

If there is one silly little feel-good quote out there that is true, I think it’s the one about people, not just places, feeling like home too. I hope everyone of you reading this has the blessing of being “home for Christmas” this year. So with that being said…