Drinking from the Fountain

I just returned from four glorious days spent in Taos, New Mexico. It was a spring break getaway. I never take spring break getaways. It's just not my style. I'm not a goer. I'm not a doer.

But this...this hit the spot. It was a vacation to be remembered.

I traveled with two colleagues I've known since only July and one complete stranger, and we stayed in the home of a colleague's sister (also a complete stranger). All four, I now consider dear friends. 

We laughed until we cried (and in my case peed). 

We enjoyed a spa day that was second to none.

We ate more amazing food than five women should consume in a month. 

We skied. Well, they skied. I fell, got up, snow plowed a little, fell, got up, and snow plowed a little more (all mixed with more laughter and a few brief moments when I thought the lack of oxygen just might do me in). 

We looked around in amazement at the beauty and grandeur that is New Mexico. They had all been there before (some many times), but they were still just as mesmerized as I was. Our maker outdid himself when he painted New Mexico. He blessed those mountains and taught them to hum. 

We celebrated life and laughter and did the week justice. It was a spring break worthy of the name. 

When I travel, I enjoy seeking out books by local authors, so this week I picked up an anthology titled Drinking from the Fountain. I bought it as a gift for our wonderful hostess, but I also read some of the pieces during my stay. They were beautiful. And the concept of drinking from a fountain seemed a fitting analogy for the week. We drank from a fountain. A fountain of friendship. A fountain of beauty. A fountain of light and laughter.

Here is what I know as a result of my getaway:

1. Zagging is a very important part of skiing. If you can only zig, it will be a long trip down the mountain.
2. Friendships can form fast. Faster than one might think.
3. The Rosary is where I turn in a crisis in need of hope. The Rosary is always about hope.

I could go on and on and on, but I won't. I'll just leave it at I learned a lot. A lot. 

Oh and...

    4. The altitoots are real. Very real.

When Choice Isn't Choice At All

Let's talk about school vouchers, taxpayer savings grants, education savings accounts, school choice. A rose by any other name would still stink just as bad. Surely that's what Shakespeare really meant.

Play with the verbiage all you want. Here on earth, we call it segregation. And it's wrong.

You can wrap it up in enough clever wording to make George Orwell proud, but it's still wrong.

Why would anything touted as "school choice" be wrong, you ask? How can choice be a bad thing?

Well, allow me to break it down for you...

It's wrong because the only choice being offered is to the chosen. A voucher system isn't about offering better educational choices to ALL children. It's about offering choices to chosen children.

So you don't have a parent or grandparent home during the day to provide transportation? Sorry, you don't get in. Private schools don't have to provide bus transportation.

You're emotionally disturbed? You don't get in.

You have a learning disability? Sorry, we'd be happy to put you on a waiting list. Oh wait...your parents can make a hefty donation to the new-building fund? On second thought, you get in.

Hmmmm...I see you were sent to the office several times last year. You're not getting in. No educational choice for you.

My foster son who carries with him three diagnoses, binders of CPS paperwork, and 16 office referrals this school year alone? He's damn sure not getting in. They'll stamp his application HELL NO and giggle when they tell people we dared to apply.

So what is his choice? He doesn't get one. He stays in public school. Which is fine with me because I believe in public school. And I happen to love his public school. And his wonderful public school teachers. They are making magic happen with the limited resources made available to them, and we're about to rip the carpet right out from under them with "choice".

That same public school will potentially lose thousands (possibly hundreds of thousands) of dollars in public tax money that will now be sent to private schools to fund the educations of the chosen. You know what else will go? The chosen parent population, a large percentage of whom are those who are able to make donations for special programs and volunteer their time to help orchestrate those programs. Remember...there's a reason they were among the chosen.

Who remains with him in that public school? That public school with even fewer resources now?
All of those kiddos who weren't chosen. They stay. Let's just refer to them as "those" kids. That's what they called them back in the good old days, right?

Remember that word I mentioned before? Segregation
*Secretary DeVos, I know it's a big word, but I'm sure someone in your office can explain it to you.

Don't get me wrong. I firmly believe in the right of parents to send their children to private school. I firmly believe in the right of private schools to govern their own admissions rules. What I do not believe in is using public tax money to pay the bill and pretending it's good for ALL children.

No public tax money should be given to a school that can pick and choose and turn children away.

Call it whatever you want. It's wrong.

Ashes to Ashes

Today is Ash Wednesday. I love Ash Wednesday. I love the cleansing principle of Lent and the feeling of a fresh start that follows it.

According to Google (not who I usually turn to for religious guidance, but I was curious), the "purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer through prayer, doing penance, repentance of sins, almsgiving, atonement, and self-denial." Not bad, Google. That's better than I would have done if asked the purpose of Lent.

I'm still undecided on what I'm giving up this year. But I know what I'm adding. I intend to pray the Rosary daily. I love the Rosary. I love the beads. I love the prayers. But I don't do it as often as I should. So a Lenten Rosary marathon it is.

And I will be reading the book Rediscover Catholicism by Matthew Kelly. A friend recommended it years ago. I didn't read it. I saw it on a cousin's coffee table about a year later, and I ordered it. I even read the prologue and first chapter. I don't remember why I didn't finish it. But I didn't. I remember liking it, but I didn't stick with it. I do that a lot.

Today I restarted it, and once again, the prologue blew me away. I remember reading it out loud to my mother and father the first time around. We were in the car. I do not remember where we were headed, but I remember reading this prologue multiple times. And then just sitting. Reflecting. Today, I did that again.

It is the story of a young boy who saves the world from a deadly flu that has killed thousands and is spreading across the globe. He saves the world with his blood, which contains the antibody. His parents had to make the decision to give his blood to save the world. His blood. Their only son's blood. All of it. And they did it.

Kelly's version is much more eloquent. I promise. But it's too long to post his words here. The last paragraph, however, you get:

*It's told in 2nd person (which I usually do not enjoy but which makes all of the difference here).

"The following week, they hold a ceremony to honor your son for his phenomenal contribution to humanity...but some people sleep through it, others don't even bother to come because they have better things to do. and some people come with a pretentious smile and pretend to care, while others sit around and say, 'This is boring!' Wouldn't you want to stand up and say, 'Excuse me! I'm not sure if you are aware of it or not, but the amazing life you have, my son died so that you could have that life. My son died so that you could live. He died for you. Does it mean nothing to you?'

Perhaps that is what God wants to say."

Kelly could have dropped the mic there. But he didn't. He followed that with a whole book. A book that I just know is going to make this Lent more purposeful for me.

That's all I have for now. I still don't know what I'm giving up, but I'm looking forward to a Lenten season of reading and Rosaries. Maybe that's how the rest of my year will be spent. Wouldn't that be something?