Yes, okay. It is very unprofessional and definitely not grammatically correct to use all those exclamation points but this is a whole month dedicated to reading. A whole month! Dedicated to reading and books!!!! That deserves the use of gratuitous exclamation points if ever anything did. Every March, reading month is celebrated in schools across the country. Why March? Well, it's because Ted Geisel, Dr. Seuss, was born on March 2, 1904, and he made significant strides in encouraging children to read. If you want to know more about his contributions I would recommend Dr. Seuss & Mr. Geisel by Judith Morgan and Neil Morgan.
Anyway, schools across America will be doing all kinds of different reading programs to encourage reading among the students. Being a dedicated reader, this is a topic near and dear to my heart. When I was a first year English teacher I required the reading of the text book and possibly one outside book, but other nothing in addition. I was often asked by parents, "How can I get my child to read?" As my teaching progressed and I grew as a teacher, reader, and learner, I discovered that motivating others to read was more about leading by example than finding clever external motivations. Here are some things I learned along the way and have helped me grow reading programs and encourage life long learners.
Never stop learning, Friends!
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While in Kennebunkport on a church trip as a high schooler, I purchased a funny puppet. It was Lowly Worm from the Richard Scarry stories. Lowly cracked me up and I was a impulsive kid with disposable funds. We had fun with him on the trip even posing him with sites as we drove across the country. After coming home Lowly went into a box that wasn't opened again until Logan was around two years old. It was love at first sight. Since Logan was two Lowly has been his favorite companion. Watching Logan cuddle wit his worm has been entertaining to say the least. Logan has stacks of Richard Scarry books which have increased his curiosity and reading skills. Over the years Lowly has become dirty and his cloth has worn thin. Last year, we found the Doll Hospital and Toy Solider Shop in Berkley and had scheduled to bring Lowly in for repairs, but it went out of business before we could have Lowly fixed. Logan was crushed. He was heartbroken about Lowly's seemingly irreversible condition. Jason searched the internet and found a shop out in California. For over year we've talked about sending Lowly out west, but Logan wouldn't hear of it.
Finally after much convincing and confirming that the nice lady who fixes children's beloved stuffed animals wouldn't do anything to hurt Lowly we have sent him off. This morning my heart ached to see Logan so scared and afraid. He was worried about Lowly getting lost in transit. He's worried about the California wildfires. He worried about earthquakes. He's worried. So we prayed. We prayed that Lowly would return to us safe and sound. We prayed that he would come back good as new and last for many years to come. Then after we prayed, I prayed. I prayed that Logan's prayers would be answered. I know he's just a worm, but if anything happens I'm afraid of how it will impact Logan's faith. He is convinced that God will take care of Lowly, but life experience has taught me that things do not always go the way I want them to. God sometimes chooses not to answer with, "Yes," but how would Logan deal with that loss? "Trust God," is excellent advise and I believe that is true, but it's also hard. God's way is best, but often there are trials associated with that trust. I remember what it was like to love my stuffed animal friends. I didn't have a house full of siblings or tons of friends. The bond I felt with my stuffed animals was strong enough that I still feel emotionally connected to them. As I pray for Logan, I know that it will be alright. Whatever happens. But that is hard. So tonight I find myself praying for a worm and his cross country journey. Lord, I believe, but help my unbelief. A young Jessie is at the top of this photo. They may have to sit still and not smile for the photos, but these were some wild and fun women, I'm sure! Jessie would have been about 20 years older by the time she wrote these letters. The solider is not Walter Hill, but Walter would have been outfitted like this and been similar in appearance. Tonight I'm finishing up transposing another letter. I just LOVE this eyewitness account of the war! I imagine Walter getting the letter and wondering, "Hmm, who could this be from?" then laughing with pleasure when he realizes that his old teacher took the time to write him. It seems as though they are completely out of touch, but she must have found him through a local organization. Teachers use the phrase "my kids" to refer to their students in the same way that parents do because they share a very special bond with their students. Clearly, Walter Hill was one of Jessie's kids. I've printed his words in gray and added some of my own thoughts in italicized blue. The wording is mostly his and some words were very difficult to decipher. Dear Teacher, I received your letter and was very glad and also surprised to hear from you. You laughed at me about 2+2=3. Well, you want to do a little trading over here and you will find out that two + two equals as much as they can fool you into believing it is. I was awful glad to hear from you. I have to write to my friend nearly every day. She worries awful about us . . . and it is no use to worry as things will happen just the same no matter how much you worry. Things happening just the same is all well and good to say when you are living a comfortable suburban lifestyle, but this is quite the statement to read from someone who is writing from the trenches. This paragraph give you some insight into just what kind of teacher Jessie was. She took quite the forceful approach to classroom management. Tying kids up for whispering? She must have had a rough group! I guessed who wrote that letter just as soon as I got down to that 2+2. Do you remember the time you tied me all up in strips of cloths for whispering? Do you remember the time that man fell down stairs over across from the school and came down and smashed in the brook? I sure remember that Mrs. Harringan. We used to have some good times at that school. If my memory does not fail me I think I remember some thing you forgot to mention. Aren't you the teacher that laid me across a double desk and gave me "What Paddy gave the Drum"? SHE SPANKED HIM! Those were the happiest days. I must have shame a speaker man at that Peace Conference with the enemy of the cabbage patch. No idea what he's talking about here. Remember the time I put Burdocks in the girls hair and got a chance to do the toe dance all around the room with the aid of the teacher holding on to my ear? You are right on Uncle Sam would be proud of the boys that he has behind him. Of course I think more of the boys who volunteered but the other boys are a credit to their country. Some men were drafted while others signed up to serve. The best part of it all is the way the boys acted when they got orders to leave for France. We did not have the least idea where we were going. It would have done you good to see how willing and anxious they were to get started. You would think that they would worry about the submarines on the way over but it was just the opposite. Most of them were anxious to sight a sub so we could get a shot at it. The officers had a lot of trouble keeping them down and not to sing their heads off. We had setting up exercises every day and games, looking and a lot of singing. Picture this in your head. Isn't this fantastic? Soldiers, who are really just boys, singing and hoping to get a shot off at the enemy. They sound so young and optimistic. I imagine their harried, serious officers saying stuff like, "You there! Get off that railing! You there! Stop that racket!" It sure what a great sight. If you never have been across it would do you good to take the trip if you were not sea sick. I was sick and did not care for awhile if all the subs the Germans had got after us at once. Poor Walter, I can totally sympathize with him on this! It was a fair sight along the western shore in the harbor. We left to see the longer ships and at night to see the lights on the buildings. It has been worth a lot to me. I have not suffered as yet. Of course, there have been things I would not have refused like a nice big piece of pie and a glass of good milk. But war is what Sherman said it was and then some. William Tecumseh Sherman, a Union general in the Civil War, said, "War is hell." I can't tell if he's being modest and kindly keeping the gruesome details away from his teacher or if he truly hasn't see battle yet. He sounds optimistic, but to say that war is hell and then some is quite strong. I also love that he worded this so as to refrain from using the word hell. I remember the last time I saw you. If I am not mistaken I was with my friend. I would not be guilty of not speaking to my old school teacher. I may have changed in looks, but I guess there is just as much deviltry in me as ever. Oh Walter, you sound so much like someone I want to know! I bet there are a lot of my old classmates in service over here. You perhaps read in the papers about the way the Bosch have destroyed the forest trees in the land they have been forced to leave. They sure are a bum lot of soldiers to fight the way they do. Bosch, a slang term for rascal, is what the French called the Germans. While I am writing this there's a lice little Bosch Machine right over our little shanty. We have a visit every night from the Bosch. They have a habit of coming over about 7:30 to 8:30 and in the morning just before daylight. They dropped a couple bombs over in the field not far away the other night. Boys in our company have done their turn in the trenches and are in for a pass for a few days. We expect to be sent down South near to a Watering Place. I'm not sure why the W and P are capitalized here. He could be referencing a Dickensian term for a bar. I will be glad when we go. I will have to tell you of a sight that I saw in another town. There as a Bosch up in the air so high he looked like a little toy. One of the French machiners got after him and down he came head first. It was some sight. We went over and saw him after he landed. The machine was like kindling. I won't tell you about the fellows. If you know any fellows that are in the Aviation Service you can give them a lot of credit as they will use a lot of nerve in that job. There are so many things going through my mind after reading this. The naive curiosity. The interest in the crashed plane. The horror at the condition of the pilot's body. Below, I've included a recruitment poster for the Aviation Services. I am impressed by all those serving in the Air Force, but these brave men do deserve a lot of credit for their courage and bravery. Be sure to write, Mech. Walter Hill Kaiser Wilhelm II was the leader of Germany prior to and during the war. The following is a poem found among the WWI letters belonging to my family. A Google search showed that it was printed in a newspaper in 1918. It must have been copied and saved by either Jessie or Mildred, her daughter. I'm not sure why whoever copied it down thought it was so important, but they took the time to type it out and save it. Now 100 years later, I'm discovering and appreciating it's historical significance. The original text of the poem was found on the Somme battlefield in 1916 by Ernest Plaine, but the author is unknown. Whoever the author was, they clearly despised the Kaiser. The idea that the Kaiser and Satan were in league together shows a strong hatred on the part of the writer. As the poem goes on though, you can feel the shift from anger and hatred to pride in the American soldier and the sense justice they were fighting with. Studying things like this helps historians understand the mindset of those living at that time. Please read the poem below and notice the strong emotions it congers up. Note: I prefer to read poetry aloud. It helps me grasp the flow and sound the author intended.
I have always been interested in World War I. Usually, people rush over the first world war to get to the more popular and more easily understood second. I'm not sure what it is about World War I that grabs my attention and keeps it, but I find the stories captivating. The impact the war had on our culture is still deeply felt 100 years later. So that's where we are now. November 11, 2018, will mark the 100th anniversary of the armistice that ended the war. On that day there were great celebrations around the world. There was also sorrow in the countries that lost the war and that sorrow would only be compounded by the Treaty of Versailles. Last year, my family discovered a packet of letters that had been collected and saved by my Great, Great Aunt Jessie. She was a school teacher who wrote to her former students who were serving in the war. I've been working to transpose these letters so they can be easily read and studied. (Follow this link to find out more about Jessie and the read the first letter.) To commemorate this 100 year anniversary I am currently immersing myself in all things World War I. I am reading about the Red Baron, Lawrence of Arabia, Edith Cavell, Alvin York, and so many others. A few weeks ago I posted about my love of history. When I talk with people who dislike history, I usually perceive that they were taught it from the wrong perspective. I am concerned with the education of anyone that doesn't include a broad study of history because of what that study provides the learner. According to John Green, "The opportunity of studying history is the opportunity to experience empathy." Experiencing empathy for people in the past is what gets my mind racing and my heart pounding. Those people were real. They loved and lost, were hungry and full, they celebrated and mourned. They felt sore and didn't always want to get out of bed in the morning. They worried about their children and loved their friends. Yes, we are all different but we are also all so similar. My favorite kind of history is the history that tells the story of a shared human experience. By immersing myself in the war, I'm hoping to feel what it felt like to be there in the midst of the crowds celebrating the end of the war, anxious about when my loved ones would be returning home. Over the next few weeks, I will be sharing the text of the letters and poems that were in that packet of Jessie's as well as some posts based on my reading. I am also so excited to be given the opportunity to share information with the students at the school I graduated from and where Logan currently attends. I've got my presentation created and my outfit picked out. (I'm super psyched about the outfit; I'll explain why later.) Now I'm working on getting visuals and preparing a display. If you have any questions about the Great War, if you're looking for book recommendations, or if you would like to see the letters please let me know. I love photos like these because you can see so much personality and emotion. The man on the far right of the large group of men looks like quite a character. Contrast him with the purposeful slouch of the man closest to him. I adore the smile of the man on the far right in the group three. My guess is the man in the middle said something funny right before the camera snapped the photo and he lost it. Remove the uniforms and replace them with modern clothing and both of these photos would look totally normal. Men working together. Men posing and laughing together. This is the shared experience of being human.
I envy teachers who have been in the same classroom for decades and never quit improving their craft. That's where I saw myself when I began teaching. I was going to be an amazing history teacher and tell wonderful stories that entranced and inspired my students. When I couldn't find a job as a history teacher and ended up teaching everything from preschool to high school government. It's not that I gave up on history, but rather I threw myself into whatever classroom I was in and fell in love with it. Now, we've moved around the country and for various reasons I've come to accept that I will never be that experienced teacher. This was a difficult realization to accept, but I'm slowly seeing God's wisdom and plan for me. I'm embracing my experiences and learning through travel and substitute teaching. My experiences in a variety of classrooms, as well as my broad reading, have given me a perspective on the world of education that is half insider and half outsider. Throughout the 15+ years spent in classrooms, I've observed student behavior and noticed changes brought about by parenting trends and technology. I'm never one to say that there is only one problem, nor am I attempting to trivialize a situation by suggesting that changing only one thing would fix everything. That said, there are major failings that complicate the work that teachers are trying to do and they hurt students. Today's word relates to something I consider a cancer in the system. Something that is eating at the heart of our schools and drastically damaging it. Today's Word: Adversarial Five syllables. Pronounced [ad-ver-ser-ee-ul] Adjective. Defined in the OAD as involving conflict or opposition. One day, while teaching middle school grammar, I mentioned that what we were doing was so repetitive and seemingly a waste of time. They had learned the same material each year from second grade to sixth grade, but we were still covering it because they couldn't remember the rudimentary parts of grammar. A candid student looked at me and with no disrespect intended said, "I try hard to forget everything at the end of each year. It's my goal to remember nothing." O-kay, umm . . . well, there's our problem. That night, haunted by his comment, I thought about the word adversarial. My classroom was an adversarial place. I worked hard to teach them and they worked hard to avoid my work. They were like lawyers carefully studying loopholes in tax laws. They wouldn't commit fraud, but the goal was to pay as little to the system as possible. The adversarial system is present in three areas. I see this every day in the students when subbing. I assign something and the students get to work. Then the conflict begins. They get out their iPad for something and I catch them playing a game or searching for nonsense. They are talking to their friends and I catch them chit-chatting instead of working. After dealing with the offenders the class usually settles into a routine of them working to complete their teacher's assigned task, but it's obvious that it's only my vigilance that is keeping them going. I'm not talking about bad kids here. These are good kids with great teachers, but it seems as though this back and forth is part of what school is. The students will do something until they are told not to. The teachers and staff have to catch them and if they aren't caught the students congratulate each other on their avoidance of correction. I fear I am painting a bleak portrait of these students. Please understand. They are not alone in this behavior. Adults trying to make conversation with kids often ask them if they like their teacher. They ask, "Does she give much homework?" Sometimes their comments about their dislike of homework have more to do with their own school experience than their knowledge of the kid they are talking to. People make comments congratulating kids when they have a day off school. I highly doubt anyone does this to intentionally make kids hate school, but they do it none the less. Parents can add to the adversarial system by getting mad at the teacher when the student is struggling with their grades and/or behavior. Parents are not always supportive of their child's teacher and by making their disagreement obvious they put a wall between the teacher and their student. Society puts a great deal of focus on those individuals who succeed seemingly effortlessly. Spoiler alert: this is impossible. I won't take the space here today, but look up books like Outliers and Grit to see what it takes to be outstanding. How people get attention is a mind-boggling study into so many different aspects of culture, but I am confident in saying that being a hard-working student isn't in pop culture's idea of "cool." So how do we end this adversarial system? A huge problem will take a huge solution, but here are a few things that I believe can help. Students need to be part of their learning. I had a sign on my wall that outlined the responsibilities in my classroom which read, "Teacher's Job: 1. To provide the tools for the students to learn what they need to know. 2. To ensure a safe environment where everyone can learn. Student's Job: `1. To learn what they need to know. 2. To be safe." This is very simple, but it places the responsibility for learning onto the students, not the teachers. If a student doesn't know where the capital of the United States is that isn't the teacher's fault. It is the student's fault and they need to add that info to their bank of knowledge. Students should know that school is their opportunity to prepare for the world. The teachers are there to help them achieve their dreams not to crush them. Students should feel empowered to learn on their own and work for their own success. I am so tired of hearing people say things like, "No one ever taught me to . . ." Hello!!! We live in an age where you can learn about anything and everything from the resources of the internet. Watch a YouTube video, read a book, go to a lecture. It is not the responsibility of school or teachers to teach everything everyone needs to know. It is the teacher's job to teach you how you can learn everything you need to know. The learning is up to you. Teachers should be careful not to send mixed messages about the benefits of learning and school. Obviously, teachers are pro learning, but sometimes we do things that are counterproductive. In college, my education professor told me something that has really stuck. She said to never reward students with no homework or leaving early because it cemented in their mind that homework and class were bad things that good kids avoided. She said that too many teachers (and parents) give worksheets and reading as punishment. This affected me deeply and to this day I am very careful about how I talk about learning. Parents and other supportive adults can help by changing the conversations they have with kids. Ask questions like, "What are you studying in school? What have you learned this year?" I make Logan and anybody else I am driving home tell me something they learned that day. If they say they didn't learn anything I say, "Wow, well, I'm paying money for you to be at that school and your teacher didn't teach you anything. I'm going to have to call her when we get home. She should be teaching you something in the eight hours you're at school." At this point, my sarcasm has demonstrated the point and they will quickly come up with some fact or math operation to discuss with me. Discuss what is fun about school and find commonality with kids over that. And please, please, don't buy t-shirts like the ones below. Encourage your child's learning and champion their new knowledge. The benefit of homework is a complicated discussion, but if you are opposed or have issues please talk to your child's teacher rather than criticize the work itself. Education is a complicated topic with layers and layers, but one thing is clear. No one benefits from an adversarial system of education. I think we would all benefit from working together to make learning something to celebrate and avoiding the slamming of the work that schools do to provide learning experiences. Seeing kids wearing shirts like these always makes me sad. Today's Word: Dishearten Three syllables. Pronounced dis-hahr-tn. Defined in the OAD as make someone lose hope or confidence. Synonyms: discourage, frustrate, demoralize, depress, disappoint. I love my son more than anything. He is my only child. I didn't intend to have an only child, but that is what we have and I love him with all my heart. We have great adventures together and things are usually good. Except for this thing called school. When he was in preschool, I was his teacher and he was one of my most troublesome students. I thought that was just because it is hard to teach your own kids. I tried to work with him, but he couldn't have cared less about the alphabet and things that I was trying to impress upon him. We worked together for hours through play, educational programming, books, workbooks, etc. You name it; I tried it. Despite all my best efforts, he remained solidly uninformed. Well-meaning friends would say stuff like, "Have you tried workbooks? My daughter loves to do them." I. Tried. Everything. Then I got a new student who only played video games and had a TV in his bedroom that he watched incessantly. Both he and his mom casually confirmed the inordinate amounts of screen time. Also, this kid could read. Like really read. Everything. I talked to his mom and she said, "Oh, yeah he just started reading one day. That's normal, right?" As Logan grew I did all the things that experts say will make kids love reading. I have books around the house, I read aloud to him, we listen to books. Everything. Guess whose arm I have to twist (figuratively) to get him to read. Then I run into parents who do none of the things and yet their little darling has just finished reading a series of 10,000-page books. In school, he does his work halfheartedly no matter how much I take away or ground him. I've always made him do his homework without interceding, other than quizzing him on his verse and spelling. I've never been one for micromanaging his progress and I've never required or expected all As. But now he's in 6th grade, the work is hard, and he is struggling in some classes, failing in others. We have tried so many different things -- more than I care to share at the moment, but I am feeling at my wit's end. I want to have a life. During the days, I'm working at a school as a substitute and in the evenings I want to write, clean, work out, and more. The LAST thing I want to do is sit and work on homework, but with him struggling I don't know what else to do. I want him to be independent and even require he make his own lunch and take care of himself, but he is fighting it. I don't want to check his every paper and be on him about studying and practicing, but if I'm not on him, he doesn't do it. We've tried rewards, punishments, and everything in between. The homework grades suffer unless I am sitting next to him doing nothing. If I begin to work on something else he is instantly distracted. When I try to teach him how to complete the worksheets he is struggling with, we have arguments like, "Mom, I don't have to copy answers out of the book. She doesn't care about that." My response is "Clearly, what you are doing isn't working because you got bad grades on all those other papers. Yes. Yes, your teacher wants you to write the answers out of the book." He gets mad and we continue the argument. Just now, I am supposed to be leaving for Wednesday night church, but I was trying to write. Instead, I looked over his paragraph that he was supposed to re-write. 1.) He turned the first draft in late losing points he can't afford to lose. 2.) He didn't put any of the things he's been taught in the paper. I insisted on looking over it before he re-turned it in which he found to be necessary, but I found 4 run on sentences, 3 errors in dialogue, countless spelling errors, to name just a few of the issues. Now I'm running late and . . . now, a few hours later, we are back. On my timeline, I wanted this published much earlier, but couldn't because I was helping him. So what do I do? I've never believed in checking homework, but he's failing the classes and failing to understand why. I feel like I'm being crushed by the work and that everything I desire is going to have to wait until he is out of school. Six more years? Ugh. So this is it. Now you know why we really love summer. There's no school. This is particularly hard to admit because I love school. It's what I do. It's who I am, but every school year is a nightmare that leaves me feeling broken and well, disheartened. It's hard working so hard to get very little results. I'm sorry. I know my tone today is sarcastic and annoyed. I scrapped my previous planned word and went with disheartened because I had to be real and put our struggle out there. I'm sorry for being nasty about the mom and her brilliant kid who learned to read without help. I'm sorry for being sassy about the motivated kids who read 10,000-page multi-book series. I don't want to hear about medication, essential oil, the latest guru, etc., but that doesn't mean I'm putting my head in the sand either. I discuss the issue with our doctor who is fabulous as well as teachers and friends. I seek help. Tonight, I just need to know I'm not alone. Maybe next week I should write about catharsis. God knows my struggle and is well acquainted with my pain. I know that no matter how disheartened I feel He will never leave me or forsake me. My son is a great kid. He is loving and kind and smart. He's been cross-referencing his books since he was a baby and can connect details like nobody's business. I am wowed by him in so many ways. If, as an adult, he loves God and cares for himself and his family, I will consider him a success disregarding his career choice be it street sweeper or chef. Thank you for the chance to feel real. I hope that by sharing this you can see deeper into my heart and know that I am never coming from a place of having it all together. Maybe that is the lesson God is teaching me here. Humility. I don't have all the answers, but I know Someone who does. All the goofy looks. All the funny smiles. All the awkward stages. Always loved.
Yesterday was my son's twelfth birthday. He is spunky and always ready with a themed outfit. He's been a companion for me and a source of both joy and frustration, but I wouldn't trade the opportunity to be his mom for the world. Sometimes he asks if we are friends and I tell him no. I say that when he is all grown up we can be friends, and no, twelve is not grown up.
Logan LOVES traditions. Adores them would be more appropriate. If something happens more than once it is a tradition. He celebrates ALL holidays and wants to be with people as much as possible. One of his favorite things is a birthday book I made him when he was a baby. For his first five birthdays I followed him around and took pictures of what he did the whole day. I put those pictures and the pictures and invitations from his birthday parties in this birthday book and now we pull it out every year. I stopped after five years because now he can remember his birthdays and we don't host birthday parties every year. As time goes on I know that this book will remain a favorite each year. I no longer scrapbook, but at the time scrapbooking was a creative outlet for me. I loved the opportunity to create and tell a story. Posting photos on Facebook and Instagram is great for those adults in our lives, but I would highly recommend making memory books for the little ones you know. My sister-in-law sent Logan a Snapfish photo book with pictures he took while he was visiting them. It was a simple photo book, but it showed all the fun things he did throughout his time them. Although this visit took place five years ago, he still looks at the book often. Because of these photos his memories of things are stronger and more vivid. Below are some photos of the book and a few of the pages. If you click on the image you can read the captions. The party ideas came from a variety of sources including Family Fun magazine, Parenting, and Pinterest. (I would site specific sources if I still had the articles, but they are long gone. If you find one please let me know and I will tag the originator of the idea.) The Bundt cake pans were from William Sonoma and they are a particular favorites of mine. My very dear Aunt Jane was a research librarian at University of Massachusetts at Dartmouth. With the help of a few other family members she compiled a family history that is full of stories and photos. In that history there is a woman named Jessie Dow. She married into the family September 14, 1890, but her husband Ernest Victor Booth died August 7, 1891, less than a year after they married. That was all we knew about her until a few months ago. After my great Aunt Inez passed away, the family found a packet of letters that was labeled "Aunt Jessie WWI". Apparently Aunt Jessie was part of a group that encouraged the men fighting "over there" by writing and sending packages to boost morale. I was allowed the privilege of looking at this packet and attempting to make sense of what I discovered. There were some poems typed on thin velum. One of the poems says, "By our office boy" which made me think that she was part of a letter writing USO type group. The which were letters addressed to "Mrs. Jessie Booth, Dear Teacher" told about the war and the men's experience in France. So she was a school teacher who loved her students. She wrote them letters because she was concerned about them. This all sounds so familiar. Instantly I felt a connection with Aunt Jessie. With the help of another history loving friend we are transposing the letters which are difficult to read. Below is one of the letters. I've copied the words down verbatim to accurately represent the author. I can't figure out his first name. Check out the close up of his signature and comment with what you think it is. The longing for home and the misery he expresses is clear and connects me with this solider from 100 years ago. I don't know if he ever made it home to his "Dearest Little Mother," but I know that so many like him didn't. As you read I hope you connect with this brave solider who was not so different from you and me. On Active Service
with the American Expeditionary Force May 20, 1918 Mrs. Jessie Booth Dear Teacher, I received your most welcome letter to day. And was sure surprised to hear from you but it was a glad surprise to me. Well I can never forget the hours that I spent in school a long time ago. I wish that I knew then what I do now. I think that my life would been different. I am glad that I am doing my bit over hear. You sure did have me guessing on the writing all right. Well Mrs. Booth I have one of the Dearest Little Mother living and I hope to come back to her but if I don’t well all I can do is to meet her up above where they don’t have war. We have been on the go since February 5 and the Lord only knows how much longer we will be on the road and we have seen and been through a lot more than I ever expected to or thought that I would go through. But I am alive and well and feeling fine and am looking for a nother chance to get at the [Book] a gain. We made a good record the last time all though some of the boys fell to the Huns paid [iofer] one of ours. We are just getting nice summer weather hear for we have been up to knees in Mud the most of the time since coming over hear and the change is good for us. I hope your garden will come out fine for any one likes to see tho first one in good shape. Yes I am in the Infantry or as we are called Mud splashers. This the branch of the service that gets all the hard work and plenty of scrape to. I have a lot of friends in the service and I run in to them not and then. I meet Sgt Pirley Wells of the old Leo H last night and and a few more of the Montpelier boys. They are all looking fine and feeling good and longing to get at the Huns and get it over with. That little boy you used to know is some boy 5 ft 11 in and weighs 155 lbs and is brown and hard as a rock with a small bush up on the upper lip. All most a man. And only 30 years old. Some boy. I often look back to my school days and wish that I could go back to them but they are passed forever. How I wished that I had learned to play the organ when you tried to learn me. I will close for this time. I remain one of your Old scholars and will always respect and love you as one that tried to learn me the many things I had ought to know. So will say goodbye with Love to my Teacher, |
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