A
SPECIAL NOTE to the reader (from the editor of S.H.E. Cynthia Meyers-Hanson):
Each
blog about the S.H.E. Anthology has a unique excerpt to keep things
fresh.
When I heard about the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School, due
to my experiences with many deaths in our small community within a short period
of time, I felt that the kids and folks might feel less alienated and alone if
they were shown the light at the end of their tunnels. I wanted to find a way to be
empower the children and their community while revealing to them a HOPE that things can and do get better.
I thought that town might enjoy
rhetoric from those kindred spirits. PLUS, I
felt others including health care professionals might enjoy those types of
stories.
After pondering a bit, God illuminated my next step. Thinking of
three books that I had partial copyrights to, I began compiling that book.
Plus, I immediately had the title of an anthology in my mind. By the way, the S.H.E. Anthology is
NOT a romance anthology but it was written by all females. In this book, the
girls recollected traumas, mostly related to death, that they faced while in
elementary school. Their stories reveal their path out of mourning along with
many minor miracles that they encountered. Their tales of hope and inspiration
are true accounts from those children turned authors. One writer and
illustrator is only six; Thai wanted to be a part of empowering children to
survive harsh things in life; so, her piece is story number three in this
compilation.
The abbreviation ‘S.H.E’ also refers to Sandy Hook Elementary. Isn’t God the best at setting up
coincidences?
This book is meant to empower Newton
as well as others that read it. We hope that this anthology, also, sheds some
new light on grief recovery in the minds of teachers, mental health
professionals, and adults handling major life changes. The compilation’s
royalties will help charities involved in grief counseling or with mental
health issues- especially for children therapies for the types of traumas witnessing
massacres produce. For example, one local group ‘New Hope for Kids’ (Orlando)
will get some of the profits from this compilation because the group that
started this organization helped Stacey over 20 years ago; her story is in the
anthology as well as excerpts in my blog @
In the book, The Evans Terrace Girls give their account of
what happened when 7 or more parents died within a year or 2 of each other in a
small subdivision of about 110 homes. People started saying their land was
CURSED. The children heard those rumors about their subdivision and were scared
to death. Then, when a neighbor lost her dad to a blood clot after surgery, the
kids felt the need to help. When one of the girls heard the rumor that the
mourning family ran out of milk, she setup a traditional solution or proverbial
lemonade stand. That day, other angels or young children arrived; many of those
neighbor kids ran door to door selling half glasses of hot lemonade. They
raised enough quarters to buy milk and other perishables. More importantly,
they formed a group that became a club and led their neighborhood out of grief.
An excerpt from their story follows.
In this excerpt after
years as a club serving their community, the girl’s dreams are fulfilled; it’s
karma!
“The other half of our funds are available to get stuff for the
orphans, now,” I informed my friends (young
girls AKA informal club members) while we munched our
lunch.
“Are we going to make baskets, again?” Ann questioned.
“We can get plenty at the dollar store,” Nicole eagerly
added.
“Why don’t we save some of the money and let them buy
what they need?” Joy participated in the discussion.
“My mother loves to shop.
We could let her buy the basket stuff, “Lee perked up with the thought
of shopping.
“It would be good to save some of the money for a cash
donation,” Kate decided aloud.
“I bet they get plenty of candy. Maybe, they need paper for school," Tina
agreed.
“No one can get too much candy,” Nicole interrupted as I
nodded in agreement.
“What do you think?” Jane questioned our chaperone as my
mother placed a dessert on the table.
“Think about what?” My mom looked at her bewildered.
“About how to help the children’s home,” I brought her up
to speed on the current agenda.
“Oh, the lady I called said that funds are the most
helpful because they can buy what the kids need.”
“But, the kids need candy. That lady won’t buy them candy if we give up
the money,” Nicole observed.
“Then, buy a few bags of candy, and put the rest in a
money order,” Joy attempted an end to this discussion.
“Good idea,” Our chaperone applauded her thoughts.
“But, that’s no fun.
We need to shop,” Lee dared defy an adult.
Smirking at her, “We can shop. Let’s just save some of the cash for a money
donation,” My mother refused to be intimidated which was not really what Lee
was attempting anyway.
“I’ll call again on Monday. I’ll set up a donation date. It would be nice to be greeted formally this
time. Let me see what we can do,” Our
leader finished the discussion for now.
My grandmother always said that three was a charm. I am sure she stole that line from someone
famous, but it didn’t matter. Early in our
third year together, we were charmed or should I say some of the good we did
came back to us. Some call it charisma
or karma. In any case, we received a
great reward.
Early on Monday, my mother called the Methodist run
children’s home. “Hello, I am
representing a group of children that raised money for your organization. They want to come in person to make this
donation,” My mother spoke to their finance lady. “Since none of these girls are Methodist or
over the age of fifteen, this donation is special. Plus, they had to sell plenty of Tupperware
to earn their funds for you. So, could
someone thank them in person?” My mother spoke with nearly one breath so as not
to allow the lady time to second think her or reject this idea.
“When do they want to come?”
“On a weekend.”
“That is hard. We
close the business end for the weekend.
Let me think.” After a short pause, she made a very shocking
observation. “It seems we are coming upon our yearly benefactor celebration in
two weeks. We invite all our big
contributor to tour the place. There is
a picnic celebration of lunch and the dorms are open for inspection. We run trams for about four hours. Can your girls come on that Saturday?”
There was a stunned silence. Then, my mother uttered,
“Ride the trams?” She was
overjoyed. Years ago, we came with our
basket and missed the tram. We wanted so
badly to be invited but never imagined we’d get a chance to hop onboard.
“Yes, and have a free lunch on us,” The lady detailed the
day.
“Our donation would not even support you feeding us,” My
mother volunteered.
“The lunches are donated.
How many girls can I put on the guest list?”
“Nine plus two chaperones.”
When my mother announced her news at our next meeting, we
could not contain the enthusiasm.
“Wow!” Mia shrieked.
“The tram!” Joy remembered aloud our desire to ride it
the other time.
This news was mostly exciting for the oldest members of
this club. We imagined this day but none
of us believed the news.
“Really, the train thingy?” Ann questioned as if she was
still in disbelief.
“Can my mother chaperone?” Nicole knew her mother would
be proud to tag along on this adventure.
She tended to be in on our orphan excursions.
“Sure,” My mom answered.
“I told the lady there would be nine girls and two drivers.”
Nicole ran to our telephone before anyone could suggest
other than her mother.
The day arrived.
This time our mother had film and took pictures of us enjoying our
activities at this home. During this
adventure, we were entertained by the orphan and parentless chorus. Plus, there were more cookies, ice cream and
candy stands than any carnival I ever attended.
We couldn’t eat it all in just four hours. Evidently, these kids didn’t need our three
bags of candy. Good thing that we
donated the rest of the sixty dollars in cash.
Unfortunately, the trams were not scheduled to run until
after a lengthy religious and choral presentation. After a two-hour program finished, Kate
decided that she’d run late for her softball game. Therefore, Kate and Tina called their parents
to pick them up. They left before
lunch. They never hopped on board the
trams, but it wasn’t their dream anyway.
After the presentations and food including picnic lunch,
we toured the facility. Sadly, we discovered
that not all the children were orphaned.
Some were abandoned. Others were
taken from parent’s that had violence or drug problems. Others were the problem; their parents could
not tolerate their bad behavior. So,
they sent them to this facility.
As we mingled with the other benefactors, many of these
adults were enamored with our club.
Wearing our shirts afforded us momentary fame. However, I had to leave because I found the
reality of this place too sad. I
couldn’t imagine the children’s life, and I didn’t want the picture in my
mind. It bothered me, so my mother, Joy
and I left after riding the tram to only two of the dorm houses. Meanwhile, the rest of the club stayed eating
the ice cream while enjoying their status and acclaim.
A dream? A
nightmare? Actually, overall it was cool
to be invited. Prayers are
answered. So, be careful!
What other minor miracles happened
when these angels joined forces with others to make wishes come true? Read The Evans Terrace Girls or their
section in
the S.H.E. Anthology.
The eBook copy of the S.H.E Anthology
is available @
The paperback version comes in BLACK
& WHITE on AMAZON @
Plus, the S.H.E Anthology is in color paperback format @
as a KINDLE @
in other eBook formats @ SMASHWORDS.com
@
So, come on buy to be inspired and help
grieving children.
It’s a WIN-WIN.
My main author page is @ WEEBLY and you can follow my blog, there.
