When my fourth son was eleven he was a hellion. I was a solo Mum by then, working all the time – working. One day he was seen skateboarding down the hill from our house at speed, in the middle of the road, wearing my big black coat and carrying a petrol can – while I was at work – I had two jobs, single parent households often have one parent with two jobs. He was asked to stay home from school on more than one occassion and I began to beat a weary track into the headmasters carpet.
He was on the road to trouble. Growing fast, hair long, often angry, often incredibly beautifully caring, the clearest blueist eyes but shot with fury.
And he could not sit still. Barely slept. Wild. Stunning.
He was saved by one of his teachers. To my shame I cannot remember her name but she saw the potential that my son had at eleven years old and had him transferred to her classroom.
In New Zealand the school kids bring their own lunch to school, there are no cafeterias in New Zealand Public Schools, every day unless it is raining hard, the kids eat their lunch outside, (if it is raining they eat in the hall) no matter the season, winter and summer in Hawkes Bay where the kids and I grew up, we ate outside then played sports until the bell. One day in a snarly mood, after lunch, my son said to this teacher that there was not enough shelter in the playground for the children to eat under. They were too exposed.
So, she said, I imagine her raising her eyebrows, why don’t you design something for shade then. So he did. He designed a beautiful big canvas roofline with poles to hold it up, it was to float like a sail but with five corners, He carefully drew the pictures, added the dimensions and with the encouragement of his teacher, called around town and got quotes for the job. With all this in hand he wrote a proposal to the school to fund it. He was eleven years old remember. They said yes – it was a good idea – then this 11 year old proceeded to supervise the job. And he and his friends and many many other kids got to sit in the shade to have their lunch from then on. He also won most improved prize at the end of that school year and this was not a small school. His mother cried. He was proud. Pride is like rocket fuel to a kid – to know justifiable pride in his accomplishments. 
He was the youngest kid ever to be accepted into the NZ film school. He is now a fast tracking producer for a film company in New Zealand that I am not allowed to name here but if you watch movies with little short guys and big feet you will have seen his work. (and the work of other members of my family for that matter).
One person can change the course of a Whole life. If only they learn to say yes. Togerther, Yes. Yes we can.
One of my favourite sayings is simply that. “Actually. I can.”
But kids get a hard time when their heads come up too high. My sister is a bully, I love her because she is my sister and bright and witty and talented and sharp but after spending only three days with her in New Zealand over a week ago I am still struggling to blot out her barbed comments, trying to unhear some of the words she flicks out like little fires at your face. Always with a smile though. Always. She just knots me up, I could feel my shoulders hunching back into a teenage huddle as I spent time with her. My eye went to pieces. I ruined shots, second guessed myself, lost the light and retreated to the kitchen in an apron. My Mother used to laugh that my sister was Mary and I was Martha. I loved Martha – she fed people.
Anyway. I use her as an example of dream trampling. Be careful: just because you do not have the same dreams does not mean you can tromp on mine.
Let’s get back to paying it forward.
My son’s teacher was not the kind of person who sent a kid cowering back into the corner. She allowed him to fly. 
A friend came to me the other day (One of the Fellowship actually) and said there was a young lady living locally, eleven years old, who is simply amazing with animals. She watches and studies and catches ground squirrels and wild rabbits, follows snakes, tracks coyotes. She is having a bit of trouble at school, there has been bullying and she and her family are working very hard at keeping her dreams afloat, my friend thought that this girl might benefit from visiting the farm once or twice a week after school.
I spoke to this girl on the phone the other day and she was bubbling with excitement, cows she breathed, pigs she sighed – what else, what else is there? Can I pet them? I have some special little pigs I said – they Have to be petted and brushed often. I’ll do it, she said, I’ll do it!
So today she came to begin her training as a farm cadet. Look at her managing those dogs. She has said Yes to everything. She did not take one step back. This wee girl has fire. She is smart. She deserves wings. An may even be reading this today.
Coco Chanel once said “We are not born with wings so do nothing to impede their growth.”
Paying it forward. Thank you to the teacher who lifted my fourth son up into the air so he could unfurl his wings when I was so tired working two and sometimes three jobs that I could not. Here is my chance to do the same for our the new worker on my team.
I hope you have a lovely day.
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
89 responses to “Paying it Forward”
I am sobbing! Beautiful!
I’ve been teaching metalsmithing for the past two winters to a lovely young woman, our cousin Hannah, who started with me last year, when she was 15. I’ll never forget the worry in her father’s face as he described this older and undesirable “boy” who had put stars in her eyes, and who was hanging around too much. (“Sniffing around” I think his words were…) I told him: “Send her to me,” I’ll teach her how to solder and make great stuff. So each winter, she’s been coming around every Thursday and is now quite the accomplished metalsmith. She even landed herself a summer job making custom rings at a little gallery last summer. She made over 30 rings for people! What a neat kid! I am so proud of her!
o my, I am in tears! My special teacher was in grade six, she helped make me who I am today, pay it forward my dear, pay it forward 🙂
I see a fantastic new member on the farmy team there! I’m sure that she’ll love to help you with incubating/hatching chicks – lots of handling in that department!
Christine
Eleven-year-old girl, no matter what grown ups tell you, growing up is not easy. Not easy at all. Find your place where you can shine. Find people who will help you. You will show them, and in the best way.
Celi, you are Martha. You are SO Martha, but you are Mary, too, because you take wisdom wherever you find it. This small girl is so lucky to have you! If they ever visit down this way, point her in my direction. I’ve got little friends for her to meet!
You’ll have everyone weeping over this one but I reckon it’s because we all share the same base-experiences at different times of our lives. We experience them when we need to so we can learn from them. I was a hellion as a kid and well into my 20s, completely off the rails and skidding, which is why I never fretted when my boys did a skid or two — it was their time to learn lessons. As an adult, we just have to be there for these kids and prop them back up and re-lace their shoes so they can keep going. So…. I’ll just say Good morning, c, and keep your shoes laced up. xx
Your sister sounds like a clone of my mother, till a few days before she died… but we manage, somehow. I have similar story about my older son and a very caring, observant guidance counselor who saw his need in a new high school and without any fuss, got him involved in something that made a huge difference in the rest of his life. Sometimes it’s not the being diverted by working jobs and not having enough emotional time for our kids, it’s just not being able to help in a situation in which we are not present. School for so many kids is a minefield, and a parent can’t be right there with them to help. (Many times that’s a good thing, too!). So lovely that you have a new helper on the farm!
Good for you Celi!! Yep I know exactly where you are coming from, doing three jobs to raise kids on your own, and being so exhausted you just want to crawl into a ball. I was a computer operator, a petrol pump attendant and worked bar at weekends! Looking back I really don’t know how I did it. But of course my kids suffered from not enough attention from me. Luckily my daughter turned out great, my son…… not so much and we will leave it at that.
So glad this young girl has you in her life now!
Wonderful! And what a proud mom too! I can recall maybe one or two teachers who had my back when I was in school (and none come to mind for my kids) but I do recall a few teachers who said I would amount to nothing. And I was never really a bad kid (ok, so I did drive the librarian nuts being lippy) and always made the honor roll. We remember who was in our corner and who wasn’t….
Lovely. And how great to have someone to pay it forward to, a person you can watch being changed by the challenges and chances you’re offering. I think we’d all give a great deal to have a shot at Farmy life.
Great post, lots of wise truth and yet another example of the miracle that is Celie. I wouldn’t have known what “paying it forward” meant had it not been for a coincidence: the dVerse Poets’ Pub had a post last night on that very subject ( http://dversepoets.com/2015/02/02/pubtalk-surprise-surprise/ ) and the resulting conversations in the bar were heartwarming and illuminating. Good luck to the new Farmy cadet. Who could fail to reach for the sky in your company?
love,
ViV
Bravo!
I’m in tears of course. Your blog should include a box of kleenex, like e a good therapist’s office. Right next to the couch (and the computer) please. I love this story.
i thought that I was the only softy in this friendship, but reading previous posts I realize that we are all like sponges being squeezed, the tears are flowing as much as the gratitude in my heart…….If only the world was inhabited by people like you what a wonderful world it would be,. Not only a loving caring farmer-lady but a beautiful human being.
It is my great priviledge to know such a person..thank you Celi from the bottom of my heart! ( where’s the damn tissue?)
You know often when reading your blog I really regret not having children of my own, but then again I have to wonder if I would have the same wisdom! Good luck to our new Farm Cadet and the whole world of new opportunity that has just opened up for her. Bless you too. Laura
No words can describe the emotions I am feeling after reading this. What an opportunity awaits this girl. From one who believes firmly in paying it forward — thank you.