Autumn Wildflower Bouquets

Flowers are usually synonymous with springtime, so I was a bit hesitant to do this art project with my class last week. It just didn't seem to fit in with the fall leaf art project that first grade had up on their bulletin board, or kindergarten's pumpkin patch. I mean, flowers in autumn....could I pull it off?

The whole idea began five years ago as a Mother's Day craft. I was looking for a way for my students to create something for their mothers with sentimental value...something like a bouquet of fingerprint flowers. I used a green marker to draw the stems, and a piece of wallpaper cut out of a sample book donated by a local paint store for the vase. The craft itself was a huge success, but another craft became the favorite for Mother's Day. I didn't need two.











Then the idea hit me to move this craft to fit in with our plant chapter in science. Every fall we study plants; trees, wildflowers, garden flowers and their seeds, and many of these wildflowers are in bloom during the fall months. Queen Anne's lace, aster, chicory, black-eyed Susan, goldenrod, and mums are just a few examples.










Again, the craft was a success, but I usually only displayed them in my classroom before sending them home. Flowers in autumn? Not so sure.










This year I decided to take a chance and display the artwork in the hallway, and by the overwhelmingly positive response, it was the right decision.

Good job, class!
 

The Elvis Caterpillar

Take a good look at what three of my students found on the playground this afternoon. It looks furry like a mammal, has what appears to be a ponytail, and seems to "glide" rather than crawl across the leaf. It drew the attention of staff and students alike, as we puzzled til our puzzlers were sore.

Then it occurred to me to google it.

This is the caterpillar of the puss moth, sometimes referred to as the "Elvis Caterpillar" due to it's awesome pompadour and slug-like build, according to www.squidoo.com/caterpillar-identification.

The site went on to say that these caterpillars have stinging hairs, and that they sometimes drop out of trees onto unlucky passersby. These moths are relatively uncommon, so if you see one, you are lucky -- but don't touch!

Neat find, my young entomologists!

North American Martyrs, Pray for us!

Today is the feast of the North American Martyrs, a group of eight Jesuits who gave the ultimate sacrifice for the Native American people in the mid 1600's. They gave their very lives in order to bring the gift of faith to a new and hostile land. Their courage and bravery in the face of torture and death astonished even the toughest of Mohawk chiefs, and brought about conversions of heart.

I never really knew much about these holy men of God, until my realization of their love for the Native American people drew me into their story. It was eight years ago that God drew them into mine.

I began a novena to these saints one Sunday evening in October 2004 just because it seemed like a good thing to do. My intentions were for the elections coming up and for my grandma's soul, since she was now in a nursing home and didn't know Jesus as her Savior.

Two days after starting this prayer my mom called to let me know that Grandma was dying. I remembered my prayer from two years back, "Please let me be holding Grandma's hand as she passes into Glory."

I made the trip up to New York to be with Grandma during her last few days of life. I held onto the hope of that bodacious prayer. The first part was now in place: I was with Grandma, but she still didn't know Jesus. There was much to be done.

I continued my novena to the North American Martyrs for the next several days as I spent the nights by her bedside. Eventually the time came when I was able to help her renew her baptismal vows.

"You are now a new creation in Christ," I remember praying. Grandma smiled the most peaceful smile I had ever seen and let out a deep sigh. She truly was a new creation in Christ. I was sure that she had found Jesus.

At home my mom got out her Catholic calendar to look at the week ahead. "Let's see what feast days are coming up," she said in anticipation of Grandma's passing.

I can't even remember what she said about Sunday, October 17 and Monday, October 18, because when she got to Tuesday, October 19, I couldn't believe my ears. "Tuesday, October 19 is the feast of the North American Martyrs." I heard my mom say.

I quickly counted back the days. What are the chances that I could have started a novena by sheer accident exactly nine days prior to the feast day, AND offered up Grandma's soul before I knew she had stopped eating?

Sheer accident? Not a chance!

Coincidence? No way!

"That's the day," I said. "That's the day that Grandma will be with Jesus."

When Tuesday morning dawned, Grandma did pass into Glory as I sat with her, holding her hand. I have never felt anything quite like that moment before; it was as if heaven and earth had come together in that room. I could even sense the presence of those Martyrs who had come to escort Grandma home.

Saying goodbye to Grandma was hard, but the joy that filled my soul was overwhelming. Grandma was safe, and I would be forever grateful to Jesus and those eight men who are still in the business of bringing souls to Christ.

St. Isaac Jogues, St. John de Brebeuf, St. Gabriel Lalemant, St. Anthony Daniel, St. Charles Garnier, St. Noel  Chabanel, St. Rene Goupil, St. John de la Lande, continue to pray for us...

....and thank you!

Four years later our family made a pilgrimage to the Shrine of the North American Martyrs in Auriesville, NY.



Welcome to Ossernenon
Now Auriesville, NY

Sign posted at the front door
of the Martyrs' shrine







The ravine that held
St. Rene Goupil's remains

Inside the ravine was
hallowed ground.

It was a tremendous experience to be on hallowed ground, where the blood of the martyrs was shed for the love of Jesus. Only two decades after their martyrdom, Kateri Tekekwitha, the Lily of the Mohawks, was born in the same village, Ossernenon.

Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha will become the first canonized Native American this Sunday, October 21, 2012. Thank you, Jesus! 

Fifty Years From Now

There are moments during a teacher's career that cannot be measured in worth, because the truth is, they are priceless. These moments seem to make up for all the times that your well-planned lessons are met with dozens of questions, or worse yet, blank stares. These moments make up for the times when you've already sent disruptive students away from the puzzle table and back to their desks, and you've attended to three stomach aches, a headache and an ant bite before 9:30 a.m.

These moments make it all worthwhile.

Today I experienced such a moment.

We were in history and geography class discussing the country of Hong Kong. We talked about the Opium Wars between Britain and China, and how Britain set up a port city in Hong Kong to keep the trade open, against China's will. Hong Kong was leased to Britain for 99 years.

Bad form, Britain, my class concluded.

Then we discussed China's communist government taking over, which led to the exodus of the Chinese people into Hong Kong. China wanted Hong Kong back, but Britain refused, saying that China would ruin Hong Kong.

Good form, Britain, my class concluded.

In 1997 the 99 years was up. China took Hong Kong back, but agreed to make no changes for fifty years. "Guys," I said, "this is current history! This wasn't ages ago, this is right now! Do you realize that we are in those fifty years?"

My students were amazed to think that they were living in history, and that we didn't know what changes China would make to Hong Kong because those fifty years aren't up yet. I told them to listen to the news in 2047 to find out the end of this story.

"I never knew H & G was fun!" Matthew shouted. "Mrs. Hatfield,  you make H & G fun!"

I was tickled pink, but the best was yet to come...

"Will we still be alive in 2047?" the class eagerly asked. We did the math on the board. "Most of you will be 44."

"How old will you be, Mrs. Hatfield?" Again, we did the math and came up with the ripe old age of 83.

"Eighty-three!" the class was shocked.

Then Matthew looked at me and smiled. "Don't worry, Mrs. Hatfield," he consoled, "I'll come visit ya and let ya know what happens."

The Fruit Fly Trap

The Kenya Diaries (vol. 29)

 

July 25, 2006

 

Kevin's Turn

 

Today we made a lot of things! Daddy made whips for Ania, Philip and Lucia out of sticks and string. He can crack it really loud! Ania can a little loud. Then he made a three-pronged grapple hook for me. It is fun to use. I began to make a fishing pole and reel, while Ania and Philip made light sabers out of sticks and green plastic bags. They used balloons for handles. Then Daddy made a wooden rake completely out of sticks. It doesn't work very well though.

 

We have too many fruit flies! They are destroying our pineapples, bananas, tomatoes and bread! We cannot catch them with our hands, so Daddy came up with a great idea. He put a piece of rotten banana in a glass jar, and TONS of fruit flies went into the jar to get that rotten banana. Then Daddy put the lid on the jar and trapped them. Then he took them outside and let them go. He did this five times while the rest of us played Uno after supper. Mama played, too!

 

Goodbye pesky fruit flies! Thank you, Jesus, for a fun day! Amina.