Sharon Dow

Life is filled with challenges. It’s what we do with these challenges that make the difference. Our family was on a new journey: a new city, a new church, new schools for the boys, the oldest now in college so not as much a part of the move, new jobs, new friends and of course the list goes on.

We did not know at that time that we had now arrived where we would spend at least the next twenty years of our lives. For so long we had been transferred often, staying from two to four years in any location. We did not know that this is where my husband would be facing finding a new job after twenty-two years with the same corporation. We did not know the joys or the sorrows that would make up the pattern of our lives. But we felt ready for the challenge.

I was able to secure a part time position at a school teaching a grade 5/6 split two mornings a week, and music to the whole school (JK to grade with the promise of a grade 7/8 the following year. I almost didn’t make it to the second year.

Moving from class to class teaching a subject considered a ‘game’ by many of the students did not sit well with me. Having to drive to a second campus to teach two classes was also a challenge, especially in bad weather. I soon wearied of the job. Each time I entered a classroom, I had to re-establish my discipline routines. The fun was gone. The only thing that kept me at the job, was that very early in my life, my mother had taught me that you don’t give up when things are tough. If you begin something, you must finish. A commitment is a trust. You must fulfill your obligation.

So I persevered. There were bright moments. I loved the students in the 5/6 split. The grade 6’s would be a part of my class the next year and the bonding began that year. I was also leading both a primary and senior choir. That proved enjoyable as well. The Christmas program and the annual musical were rewarding and I made it through the year.

I’m so glad I did. As you can guess, it was a learning year. I learned to sift out what was important and cling to those things. I learned that you can overcome unwelcome challenges. I learned that life brings the difficult along with the lovely. I learned that students can be the ones who encourage you and keep you going. Thank you to those students in the grade 5/6 split. You know who you are. You kept me going. You gave me a reason for wanting to come to school. You taught me so much and I find you often in my mind and my memories.

Things did get brighter and I’m glad I listened to the teaching of my mother and stayed with my commitment.

I loved being home with my children. My plan was to stay home until they were all grown up and ready to be out on their own. I drifted along not really having plans for the future; not knowing how fast the future would sneak up on me.

When my youngest was ten, I was offered a position in a private Christian School teaching a grade 6/7/8 class. I now faced a difficult struggle. Should I go back to teaching? Could I still teach? Would I be able to bond with the students? And the biggest one; how would my children cope with me out of the home?

I wrestled with the decision. I talked to people including my children. They did not share my fears. They encouraged me to go. My husband assured me I would be fine and so would the family. That just left me!

Once the decision was made to return, I came home from the school laden with curriculum which I piled on the dining-room table. It was daunting! I told my family I would see them in a few days. If they really needed me, I would be at the table with my books! It was the week before school was to begin, so there was much to be prepared.

The first day of school arrived. I felt like a kindergarten student approaching the formidable edifice for the first time. I arrived early, arranging my books for the day, writing on the chalk board for the first time in fourteen years, and keeping an eye on the classroom door for the first appearance of my students.

They arrived with smiling faces. I smiled back at them. The years fell away and I was once again a teacher. It seemed as though I had never been away from the classroom. We bonded on that first day of what would be an amazing year.

I now had another source of learning: students during the day and my boys at night. I was on another learning curve. The class was multi-cultural which was incredible. We learned about other cultures in our daily routines. It’s surprising how similar children are regardless of their cultural background. We had many interesting discussions as we explored our backgrounds.

And yes, my children were fine. Being a teacher has many advantages including holidays that correspond with the ones the children enjoyed. Summer holidays, March Break, Easter; I was home for all of them.

Unfortunately I was only able to teach in that school for three years. My husband was transferred to another city which meant a move for all of us. It is always hard to leave friends and jobs, but we looked at each move as an opportunity to see new places, meet new people and see how the next chapter of our lives would unfold. I could be certain of one thing: there would be more learning.

My teaching career was temporarily interrupted when I went on Maternity leave with my first child. The children were not an interruption, they were and are, my whole life. I experienced a sense of completeness and fulfillment such as I had never experienced before. Were there challenges? Of course. Challenges come with every worthwhile venture.

My learning continued. Now instead of learning from my students, I was learning from my children. One lesson I apparently needed to learn was patience. It was called upon time after time. I learned how children think, what they like to do, I basked in their hugs and kisses. I became a nurse, a storyteller, a policeman, a pyschologist, a mentor, a peace maker, a cookie maker; you know the list, those of you who are mom's learned all those things too,

I believe in reading so much, that I started reading to my children as soon as we came home from the hospital. More than one person mocked me saying the child couldn't understand the story yet. My response was always two-fold; you can't know at what moment your child begins to comprehend so I was not going to miss that moment, and if for no other reason, the child loved being cuddled and loved the sound of his mother's voice and I enjoyed the experience. (But I never want to read Ruppert again! It was a favourite of my oldest. The book had pictures with a short version of the story with a longer version underneath. Sometimes I would try to get away with the shorter version, but he was too smart and always pointed out that I wasn't reading it right!) I now have three readers. Some became lovers of books very early on, others took a little longer, but we've all arrived.

Now life became really busy with three little boys. No time for writing, not even time to think about plots for stories. My husband and I began writing Christmas stories for the children to be read on Christmas Eve. I still try to write a new one each year. I hope one day to write a Christmas Eve book. We developed many special Christmas Eve traditions including a special seafood menu, stories, the Luke 2 passage of the events of Christ's birth, as well as a game involving elves and clues as to where to find your treat. I still write the rhymes for the games.

Still in the back of my mind was the novel I wanted to write. I started a few things, but they were not quite right. But somewhere in my mind, I knew that one day I would write. Every experience I had with my children, every book I read, every trip we took, added another layer of information being stored for the right moment to arrive.

Treasure your memories. Write and keep ideas. One day they may be just the thing to get you started.