Irene Kiss

Two giant cardboard Power Ranger cutouts greeted me as I took my first step into my new classroom, in my new school. Having moved to the neighborhood at the beginning of the summer, I felt both excitement and nervousness on this open house night. I was ready to start school and make new friends, but of course, dreaded those first few awkward days as I figured out where I belonged in this mixed class.

I found out a few things pretty quickly. 1. Most of us were new to the neighborhood and so I wasn’t alone, and 2. I had the best teacher in the 5^th grade. Ms. Kiss was the fun one, hence the Power Rangers towering over our long, low, bookshelf along the back wall. The first day we opened our science book, she paused to point out that the scary looking ape on the front cover resembled someone she used to date, which of course caused our entire class to burst into laughter… after all, everyone knows teachers don’t date!

In the yearbook there’s a picture of our class wearing big, bright, red wax lips, proudly representing our beloved teacher, and in the years that followed, anytime two or more of us from that class would gather, the stories and laughs would start pouring out. That year had a profound impact on so many of us, and yet, it’s impossible to pinpoint just one reason why.

Ms. Kiss loved us. Most of us don’t doubt that at all. When tragedy befell the families of a few of my classmates in the years after we’d left her classroom, Ms. Kiss was there. In her own compassionate way, she let us know that if we ever needed anything, we could always call. In those difficult middle school years, it wasn’t uncommon for me to hop on my bike, ride over to the elementary school to talk to Ms. Kiss, only to find another one of my classmates was there, doing the same thing.

Ms. Kiss believed in us. I’ll never forget the first report card I got where I received a C in science. My first C ever, and my parents were so upset. I didn’t understand. It said at the bottom of my report card that a “C” meant average. It meant I was right there in the middle, not good, but gosh people, it wasn’t bad! I sat in a parent-teacher conference with Ms. Kiss and my mom, and Ms. Kiss asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Duh, I wanted to be a doctor! Yeah, let me tell you, a conversation telling your teacher that C’s are a-ok, and so is being “average,” yet you’re aspiring to be a doctor is NOT going to go well. Ms. Kiss didn’t expect the impossible from me. She knew what I was capable of, and expected me to try my hardest, to never settle for being just “average.”

Ms. Kiss was gracious. One day at lunch, the dumb boys in my class were spitting spit wads at one another. I thought it was funny, so I took a straw and stuffed (spit free) paper down into it, and joined in on the hilarity. It’s all fun and games until the lunchroom lady lays the smack down. Ms. Kiss came to pick up the class from the cafeteria, only to find a group of boys, and Molly relegated to the lunch detention table. Lunch detention was the least of my worries… what if she called my parents?! I would surely be grounded for life! I still remember the solemn walk to our classroom, where she told the guys and me how disappointed she was in us, and handed us this essay packet we had to do whenever we got in big trouble in her class. The essays asked me why I had made the choice that I did, what I felt was a fair punishment. I poured my heart out in that essay, telling her I was just trying to be funny, and all but begging her to have mercy on my soul. I think I even signed it saying that if she called my parents, I would see her in heaven, because I would be in so much trouble! A few days later, she called me to her desk. She gave me a hug, and told me that she was proud of me for taking responsibility for my actions and that she felt like I had learned from my mistake. Hallelujah, mom and dad would never know!

Ms. Kiss encouraged us to be ourselves. I was that girl that loved to laugh but most days forgot to brush my hair… so Ms. Kiss and I laughed together. Others in our class were good at sports, and so Ms. Kiss cheered for them on the field. Some liked to sing Disney songs, and music from the King and I (haha), and she even encouraged them as well. She didn’t care what it was, or if we were actually good at it or not, she wanted us to find the things we loved, and to be passionate about it. She loved us for who we were, and hoped that we would grow up to be confident, compassionate, loving people who loved others for their uniqueness.

She was the kind of teacher we never wanted to disappoint, and one that never hid her emotion from us. When she was upset, wow, we knew it, but when she was proud, her faced beamed that too.

When snow was in the forecast, she’d pull all of us out into the hallway to do the snow dance, and she’d be the first to tell us to wear our PJs inside out so school would be cancelled.

She let us build a fort out of boxes when we read Bridge to Terabithia, and handed me tissues across her bean shaped reading table as I poured out my heart about how sad I was after reading “Where the Red Fern Grows.”

She wore tennis shoes with pink and blue on them almost everyday, and never wore dresses. She always said she came to school ready to have too much fun to wear a dress.

She let us have a huge water fight on the last day of school, she herself donning the biggest Supersoaker of them all!

After school she’d pull up to our neighborhood bike gang on her way home and tell us she couldn’t wait to see us tomorrow… and the way she said it, you always knew she meant it.

Ms. Kiss was wonderful. It was one year, almost 20 years ago, and yet it’s still one of the favorite, formative chapters of my life thus far.

I found out that Ms. Kiss passed away last week. I didn’t expect to feel so sad, especially since I haven’t talk to her since I was in high school, but I can’t help but feel a bright light has left this world. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about how I might be able to get her address to write her and tell her how much she meant to me, but sadly, I never got that chance. I hope that over the years she was as happy and loved as she made us feel, and that somewhere, deep down inside, she knew she’d made an impact on so many. Irene Kiss was one of the greatest influences in my life, and I'm grateful I had the opportunity to have her in my life.. even if it was just for a little while.

September 11th- Ten Years Later

Words are and seem so inadequate. Facebook, blogs, news sites, all filled with similar thoughts... "Where were you on 9/11?" Those of us who are old enough to remember, can't help but want to share with others how that day profoundly impacted our lives and the way we view the world in which we live.

For my generation, many of us acknowledged for the first time that evil exists in this world, and then, faced with the likelihood that our country would go to war, and as little more than children ourselves, we had to make very adult decisions of how we would respond. I have so many brave friends who are still serving our country in response to how 9/11 impacted their lives.

Working in student ministry, I'm surrounded by middle and high school students who barely, if at all, remember that day in our nation's history. They don't remember a world without news updates of the terror threat level for that day, or a world without the world on terror, or a world where you could walk your loved on up to their gate at the airport or fly with liquids in your carry-on. They don't remember what it was like watching the 2nd plane hit the World Trade Center, or the panic many of us felt as we tried to make sure loved ones and friends were safe.

Just a month into my freshman year of college, I stood in front of a television, watching with my roommate and the rest of the world, as one of the darkest days in our country's history unfolded. As I watched the news, and then heard about the plane hitting the Pentagon, my fear smashed a million times closer to home than the news of NYC. Was my dad there that day? Were my friends' dads ok? What if someone I know was on that hijacked plane from Reagan? New York City, Washington DC, and a field in Pennsylvania... where would they attack us next? How would America stand up after taking such a blow?

I'll never forget watching the footage of people jumping to their deaths from the unreachable upper floors of the World Trade Center. I was so angry at our news coverage for showing such heart breaking, hopeless moments. If that had been my dad or someone I knew, it would have been so easy to recognize them. Why would they show that? And yet, it was in those moments that I realized just how "real" that situation was. Those buildings were more than just tall towers... they held mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, wives, husbands, and children... and so did the planes that crashed that day.

In the weeks following 9/11, I saw our nation come together. I saw many people turn to God. I know that He works all things together for our good. I know that He is sovereign and that there was always a plan and a purpose in that dark day. Today, on the 10th anniversary, I pray that we're reminded of how close He was to us during that time, and that He continues to be close to us today. I pray that all of the loss, the suffering would not be vain, but instead point usever-closer to the Giver of Life. Yes, 9/11 was a dark, ugly day... but there was a Friday in Jerusalem that was even darker and even uglier. Thanks be to God that because of Jesus' death on the cross, and in His resurrection, we can have hope. Even in hate, and death, Jesus conquers all, and His glory endures forever.

Sarah's Wedding

Wow, what a fun time last weekend was! My little sister is a married woman now! The wedding was absolutely beautiful and so was Sarah. She was the prettiest bride ever… seriously looking like the cover of some bridal magazine. She got married at the St. Regis in Washington DC near the White House, which is a gorgeous old hotel downtown.

Friday, I spent the day with my older sister, Erin getting our nails done and just hanging out, and then her boo Chad, Erin and I headed into the city for a big dinner for family and out of town guests (she didn’t have a rehearsal). This was my first time meeting a lot of Sarah’s new family, like Joseph’s brothers and stuff…wow, they are a fun group of people, for sure. Very loud and very Italian. I definitely love the fact that they truly do love Sarah.

That night, since I’ve missed all of her showers and stuff, I stayed with Sarah in her big fancy sweet. I tried not to get too excited about the fact that it was big enough to have two bathrooms, and tvs in the bathroom mirrors. I am so grateful I got to spend time with Sarah. It was great to talk and laugh, since I knew Saturday would be so crazy.

We woke up bright and early Saturday, and the craziness began shortly thereafter. Hair and makeup for Sarah, the mothers, and all of the bridesmaids took place all afternoon. Sarah was so calm and in such a good mood, even though you could tell she was getting nervous. It was a fun day. Her friends that she chose for bridesmaids are all really nice, and we just laughed a lot. Everyone was genuinely excited for Sarah and Joseph’s big day.

It was hilarious when it was time for pictures as the bridal party made its way down the block toward the White House. Cars were honking and tourists were stopping to take picture. Sarah looked so pretty in her dress. I can’t wait to see how the pictures all turn out. Thankfully the rainy weather cleared up, and it ended up being a beautiful day. Her wedding was in a courtyard attached to the hotel, and it just looked so picturesque.

The wedding ceremony itself was super short, followed by a cocktail hour while they moved the chairs inside to the tables. The cocktail hour was good because it took about that long for everyone to figure out the bustle on Sarah’s huge poofy dress! Eventually we made our way in to the reception. We had a really good meal, did the toasts and dances…. And then the craziness began. I have never been at a wedding where soooo many people were dancing and enjoying themselves like they were at this one. It seemed like everyone was dancing, and laughing and having a great time. I might need to invite some crazy Italians to my wedding someday to make the party happen. It was so much fun.

In all, it was such a happy weekend. I’m so excited for Sarah and that I have a new brother. I’m happy that my sister found a love that makes her happy. I was a hot, crying mess a couple times because the joy we all felt was incredibly overwhelming.

After a crazy last few weeks and not being home since Christmas, last weekend was such a blessing. Spending time with my family, seeing all my friends… It was definitely hard to get on the plane to fly back. I’m super homesick, but so grateful I got to go home for a few days. It was one of the best weekends ever.