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Daily Note

Every day, a photograph, a poem. Yes, the wild one stayed out all night, even with a raccoon sauntering through the yard. Itty the Kitty stays hidden, camouflaged in the brown and yellows. I stepped out this morning to find her, and there she was, all curled up in her spot– sometimes she lays further back beneath the Oregon grape, especially if the neighbor’s dogs are barking or perhaps the deer come to trim our trees. You can see how comfortable she is– her left paw reaching out, “gooshing,” like a content cat.

Two poems today because our Nespelem friend Betsy asked us to write poems for our dear friend, Tim, who passed away this month, and now we remember hidden memories of the tall man with a gentle and kind soul.

Tim, a creative mind with an artful eye to all he did, welcomed me immediately when I joined the school staff so long ago in 1985. I felt immediately welcome and delighted in his ability to share little things that would mean something to me– artful covers of the New Yorker, pieces of “found art,” a cartoon, a hand written note in perfect calligraphic, inked font.

As I was choosing background paper to display student art in the hallway, he gently suggested to me that to choose black, or at least dark, paper so the student work is pops out in the “frame” of the paper behind it.

And, when we both taught sixth grade writers workshop, he did has magic perceptive thing and pointed out that the workshop strategy of “mini-lessons,” are actually “Maximum Moments.” And from that day on, my lesson plans included “MaxMos” for the writing lesson for that day.

And whenever anyone stopped by, in need of support or just to chat, he gave them his “maximum moment”– the attention that was needed. He saw in each person the best they could be, even if in that moment, they weren’t the best they could be.

Our friend will be missed.

Mr. Schell

A gentle soul
welcomed all
no matter who—
like the meadow
of his yard,
he saw the
natural beauty
in who you are—
a canvas to become
a masterpiece;
with an artful eye
he taught me
framing for student work
[always black or dark backdrop];
to our writing workshop
he named mini-lessons
for what they were:
“maximum moments,”
and to each who entered
his quiet space,
he gave you his
maximum moment
of attention,
welcomed all,
this gentle soul.

~Ms Edwards

Hidden

Out all night, wild one,
found curled up comfortable
hidden in the bush.

Sheri Edwards
071221 19236521
Poetry/Photography

Post 865 days in a row

Sheri Edwards View All

Geeky Gramma ~~
Retired Middle School Language Arts/Media Teacher ~~
Writer and Thinker~~
Art from the Heart

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