Pennies Equal Millions

Today I picked up a penny from the sidewalk, which I don't normally bother to do. It wasn't because I read that sweet email about the penny saying "In God We Trust." Rather, yesterday I read in my son's economic textbook that each month the government must replace $50 MILLION in pennies.

Not 50 million pennies, but 50 million DOLLARS in pennies.

All those pennies we walk past, put on railroad tracks, throw in fountains and turn into souvenirs at tourist traps.

Can you imagine what we could do to solve social problems with the $50 million wasted each month by disregarding pennies? And that's an old figure.

I know picking up that one penny didn't fix the problem for April. But at least I didn't contribute to the problem, just this once. If everyone always took responsibility for their corner of the planet, not just with pennies, we'd live in a different world.

I'm on the lookout. For pennies, and other lost things.

Clark Races to the Top!

Our high school is a finalist in the Obama Race to the Top, if they win the President will speak at graduation! This would be a great boon for Wesley as a junior to put on college applications, to say his high school was chosen as a model for the nation!

This isn't about political parties, but honoring the students and teachers for their hard work.

I am moved by the video our students produced, not because of its production quality, although that is fine, but the stories that they shared. Those stories were not created because the spotlight is on our school, they are stories from years of teachers caring about students.

Way to go Clark! We hope you win!

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http://www.whitehouse.gov/commencement#vote-top

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The Help and My World

Recently I have been reading The Help. This novel tells the story of black maids working for white women in Jackson, Mississippi just as the Civil Rights Movement breaks into their world. A white woman aspiring to be a journalist collects stories from the maids about their working experiences, stories that include both terrible cruelty and great love, ironically twisted together.

Today is my day off, and I was reading in bed, then laid the book down to rest a moment. I heard a knock on my back door, a common occurrence, as we have a basketball hoop that neighborhood kids are allowed to use, but only if they ask first. I can see the back door from my second story window, and looked out to see who was knocking. I can often just wave my acceptance without going downstairs.

A small boy held up my keys, which I had obviously left in my back door, hanging from the lock, inviting anyone to enter the house at will or alternately steal my car, borrower's choice, not the first time I've done this.

I ran down to retrieve them, and thanked the child and asked his name and the name of his sister, and told them my name. I assumed he wanted to play ball then noticed the keys. I told him I was glad he noticed instead of someone not so nice discovering them. Then I learned he didn't want to play at all, he was just riding his bike past and noticed them, and decided to knock on the door and give them to me. I was even more impressed and grateful that he took the trouble to help me. I thanked him again, and as he rode away he said, "You're welcome, Ms. Kathy."

At first knock I was annoyed at the interruption in my rest. I left my back door being grateful for his kindness. And I thought of the book I was reading and complicated relationships we still have across racial lines. Little people like my visitor are doing their part to change that.

Thanks IRS

The IRS is a favorite target of hate and resentment, stealing our hard earned dollars, threatening us with repercussions if we don't fill out our forms correctly, so that many spend more hard earned dollars having the pros do it.

My husband fills out our taxes, except for the year my mother died leaving us with a new tangle of issues. We had the pros do it and they made a mistake. Figures. So typically Roger does it, and worries that we'll get audited because our numbers are so odd. I am self employed and we have a lot of deductions, so he figures we are screaming for extra attention.

This year he felt extra worried. During 2009 we had 3 children in college, so we qualified for 3 of the new college tax credits, resulting in a huge refund in addition to the decent sized one we already were due. The money arrived in our account online, so I breathed a small sigh of relief.

Then yesterday the envelope arrived with the IRS return address, a dreaded omen. I opened it to see what they had to say, and sure enough, we had made a mistake. We didn't take a new credit we were due. They corrected it and we got an extra $800 we hadn't claimed.

This actually happened to us once before, they corrected a child credit we didn't see. I am frankly amazed. It makes sense to me that if we mess up and owe them more, they are going to correct it and demand their money. But I think it's remarkable that when we don't claim a credit, they fix it. It doesn't seem like they'd be obligated to bless us in that way.

We were trying to figure out how to fund Nora's grad school next year, and the government has practically paid for her first semester. Thanks, IRS! God can use anything, that's all I can say.

April 10

Today would have been my dad's birthday. This is the third one he hasn't been around for, so it's getting easier, but I still don't like it.

For some reason, perhaps the unexpected nature of my mother's death, her death anniversary has been the sad date in missing her. But for Dad, it has been his birthday.

Christmas of course is sad without him, but there are other people to enjoy and celebrate, and after all, it's Jesus' birthday first and foremost.

But on this date when I would normally celebrate my father, it is sad to not have him around to enjoy. The greatest loss is not having him here to rejoice with his grandchildren, rooting for their endeavors, being proud of their accomplishments. We attend yet another graduation this May without him.

When Junia graduated from high school four years ago Dad was not only present, we didn't even know he had cancer. We have photos of that day of celebration. Those are the last photos of Dad looking normal, as the following month brought his diagnosis, chemo, and a swift three month march to the grave.

So it's especially poignant to approach Junia's graduation four years later, and to realize all he has missed. I expect he's quite aware although in a different reality, yet we still can't hear his words of praise or feel his hug of congratulations.

Dad, I'll always miss you on April 10. You were a great dad and grandfather. Thanks for loving us all so well.