“Mom, please!” Tanah sobbed.
What could I do? Typical Tanah fashion, it was the 11th hour and, this time, I could not pull any tricks out of my hat.
Situation: If Tanah could find someone to attend Mr. Peer’s English-as-a-Second Language class, she would not have to take the final exam in U.S. Government. It was 4:00 p.m. The class started at 6:00 p.m.
Tanah begged me to find someone to take the class; she had SO much to do and simply did not have time to study for the government final. “Please, Mother!”
Given two weeks I might have been able to find someone for her—I teach at a Spanish emphasis charter school for heaven’s sake—but there was nothing I could do in two hours. I’d called the only mono-lingual Spanish speaker for whom I had a phone number and I’d been turned down flat. My hands were tied, my solutions bag empty.
Enter the S.S. man.
Tanah’s Sunday School teacher is from Mexico. He speaks Spanish. He also speaks English. In fact, he speaks English so well that he is often hired as an interpreter. He also speaks love.
Tanah called him and pled her case. Did he know anyone, ANYONE, who might be interested in taking the class? ….a class that started in less than two hours…… She was desperate. And he was kind.
Hyrum Alatriste, father of five young children, native Spanish speaker and fluent English speaker, awesome person and dedicated disciple of Christ, changed his evening’s plans, abandoned his wife and children, and spend two hours in a Spanish-as-a-Second Language class that he was much more qualified to teach than Mr. Peer.
He probably did not learn anything in the class but he certainly taught something that evening. He taught a certain young woman (my daughter) that she’s loved enough to be sacrificed for and for that I am grateful. VERY.
MORE of the story…..
So the above story casts Tanah in a somewhat less than favorable light. She is actually quite a favorable person; one my very favorite favorable people, truth be known. And truth will be known, as the following story illustrates.
I get up at 4:30 every morning and almost the first thing I do upon getting out of bed is venture outside to feed the sheep. Friday when I fed the sheep, the chickens came out to greet me. When chickens leave the protected hen house to venture into their dark yard at almost 4:30 in the morning, there is something wrong. And there was. They had no food. None. Not even a crumb.
It is Tanah’s responsibility to feed and water the chickens. (I’ll get to the part where Tanah is cast in a more favorable light, I promise!) Back up to the house I went, to awaken my slumbering teenage daughter, the same daughter who had not gone to bed until past midnight because she was working on costumes for the upcoming play.
“Tanah,” I said, “The chickens do not have any food. And they are almost out of water as well.” And I left.
The outside faucet is frozen so Tanah had to fill a five gallon bucket in the bathtub and haul it 100 meter down to the hen house. The feed barrel was empty so she had to hunt for a sack of chicken grain. Unable to find one in the barn, she returned to the house to ask me where it might be. I directed her to the back of the van.
She hauled a 50 lb. sack of grain to the hen house, filled the feed barrel, filled the chicken feeder and, finally, returned to her warm bed. (Have I mentioned it was cold outside, about -4 degrees Celsius?) Before heading back downstairs to her bedroom she said, with complete sincerity and without a trace of sarcasm, “Thanks Mom for waking me up to feed the chickens.”
Oh how I adore this girl!!!
What could I do? Typical Tanah fashion, it was the 11th hour and, this time, I could not pull any tricks out of my hat.
Situation: If Tanah could find someone to attend Mr. Peer’s English-as-a-Second Language class, she would not have to take the final exam in U.S. Government. It was 4:00 p.m. The class started at 6:00 p.m.
Tanah begged me to find someone to take the class; she had SO much to do and simply did not have time to study for the government final. “Please, Mother!”
Given two weeks I might have been able to find someone for her—I teach at a Spanish emphasis charter school for heaven’s sake—but there was nothing I could do in two hours. I’d called the only mono-lingual Spanish speaker for whom I had a phone number and I’d been turned down flat. My hands were tied, my solutions bag empty.
Enter the S.S. man.
Tanah’s Sunday School teacher is from Mexico. He speaks Spanish. He also speaks English. In fact, he speaks English so well that he is often hired as an interpreter. He also speaks love.
Tanah called him and pled her case. Did he know anyone, ANYONE, who might be interested in taking the class? ….a class that started in less than two hours…… She was desperate. And he was kind.
Hyrum Alatriste, father of five young children, native Spanish speaker and fluent English speaker, awesome person and dedicated disciple of Christ, changed his evening’s plans, abandoned his wife and children, and spend two hours in a Spanish-as-a-Second Language class that he was much more qualified to teach than Mr. Peer.
He probably did not learn anything in the class but he certainly taught something that evening. He taught a certain young woman (my daughter) that she’s loved enough to be sacrificed for and for that I am grateful. VERY.
MORE of the story…..
So the above story casts Tanah in a somewhat less than favorable light. She is actually quite a favorable person; one my very favorite favorable people, truth be known. And truth will be known, as the following story illustrates.
I get up at 4:30 every morning and almost the first thing I do upon getting out of bed is venture outside to feed the sheep. Friday when I fed the sheep, the chickens came out to greet me. When chickens leave the protected hen house to venture into their dark yard at almost 4:30 in the morning, there is something wrong. And there was. They had no food. None. Not even a crumb.
It is Tanah’s responsibility to feed and water the chickens. (I’ll get to the part where Tanah is cast in a more favorable light, I promise!) Back up to the house I went, to awaken my slumbering teenage daughter, the same daughter who had not gone to bed until past midnight because she was working on costumes for the upcoming play.
“Tanah,” I said, “The chickens do not have any food. And they are almost out of water as well.” And I left.
The outside faucet is frozen so Tanah had to fill a five gallon bucket in the bathtub and haul it 100 meter down to the hen house. The feed barrel was empty so she had to hunt for a sack of chicken grain. Unable to find one in the barn, she returned to the house to ask me where it might be. I directed her to the back of the van.
She hauled a 50 lb. sack of grain to the hen house, filled the feed barrel, filled the chicken feeder and, finally, returned to her warm bed. (Have I mentioned it was cold outside, about -4 degrees Celsius?) Before heading back downstairs to her bedroom she said, with complete sincerity and without a trace of sarcasm, “Thanks Mom for waking me up to feed the chickens.”
Oh how I adore this girl!!!
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