ON A BLACKBOARD
Peering from between the refrigerator and the kitchen table,
nestled among blue flowered wallpaper and red jelly spatters
resides our main kitchen attraction, the family blackboard.
Purchased originally as a child’s toy, it has graduated through
the years to the position of chief message-taker and keeper of
our thoughts.
In the beginning, the children covered its shiny surface with
amateur artwork and first-time printing, then progressed to
spelling practice and math lessons. It became easy for me to
spot potential educational problems when faced with a message
such as: “MOMYIAM ATBILSHOSE BAKAT2.”
Many a dinner-table conversation has been enriched by the
presence of our dusty friend. Husband, an expert on word
origins, often leaps up to diagram the etymology of particularly
interesting tongue twisters such as “Orthopedic” and
“Astronomy.” Today’s middle schools may no longer emphasize the
classics, but in my kitchen, it’s all Greek to me. Sex
education, too, takes its place among favorite blackboard
topics. Neighbor children peer through our windows in
fascination as I draw pictures and name names.
Several years ago I began copying a daily quotation on the
board, a sort of uplifting “thought for the day.” Gradually, the
quotes became more personal. “BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM HERE”
came in handy the week I had laryngitis. And after washing a
staggering load of potty-training pants one evening, I dragged
myself upstairs to be greeted by Himself’s scrawled comment,
‘YOU CAN CHANGE THE WORLD.”
Our blackboard serves as a prod for Himself who often feigns
forgetfulness when it comes to household chores. During a
particularly busy period this past spring, we listed an entire
month of chores and appointments, which stared accusingly at us
(much more intimidating than a computer printout). What a sense
of fulfillment and relief was ours each time we crossed off
another task, vanquishing our chalky oppressor.
There is also something positive and reassuring about the
printed word that mere speech cannot convey. In the quiet of
night when my conscience begins to prick over my impatience with
one of the children that day, I need only go to the blackboard
and write “MOM LOVES TIM,” and there it stands, the first thing
he sees next morning at breakfast, proof to all that he is
valued and appreciated.
And what verbal communiqué can compare with the black-and-white
splendor of, “DAD---SOME MAN CALLED. PLEASE CALL HIM BACK.”
Pounding the erasers in the chilly sun, I am reminded of an
earlier, simpler era, and I am grateful to our blackboard for
preserving a part of my childhood. Perhaps its main advantage is
that it---unlike so much of life---can always be erased, and
made fresh and new for another day.
© Copyrighted 1973 Joan Wester Anderson For angel/miracles
stories, visit www.joanwanderson.com
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Home ::
About ::
Books ::
Newsletter ::
Archives ::
Upcoming Events ::
Site Map ::
Media
:: New & Notable |
