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 have a wonderful son; my one and only who had that anger and restlessness; bright, funny, but angry, and he pulled out of it too; I was also thrown out of high school 3 times and that was in the early 50s; each generation works stuff out; I’m happy for you, all the farm animals, your family, the pigs, oh the pigs and the little girl; siblings or anyone’s sharp tongue kills. “A kindly tongueis the lodestone of the human heart.” You write so wonderfully; I’ve just moved; husband died end of nov and I’m okay because we had such a packed life and he was wonderful. Landlord’s car burned up, taking mine with it; various medical questions of my own, and just moved into a friend’s house; we’ve known each other for 52 years; I’d be up a creek without a paddle if not, and she asked me. The world is so vulnerable but filled with wondrous people and animals. love to you and all, esther
the other day you asked for our favourite blog and I couldn’t decide, so many have been so lovely, thought provoking, sad, happy etc. BUT THIS ONE, THIS JUST HAS TO BE INCLUDED. It’s awesome. Thank you Celi for sharing this. Looking at the other comments I guess a few people might think so too?
AND……..I forgot to add, awesome, beautiful pictures too!
This made me cry. My cousin who came to live near me with her two daughters is struggling. The girls are both a problem but one is on a fast track to hell and social services will not/cannot help – we are all trying to encourage and step in where we can but the girl seems intent on self destruction and is only 14. I wish she could connect with someone who could light that spark in her to get her back on track to what could be a wonderful and happy life. We have not and will not give up hoping and trying.
Maybe your niece can just read this post … Children are so sensitive … Much more than grown ups … She will quickly see that the world has beauty too apart from whatever horror it is offering her gentle soul … And that may give her hope and courage to fly out to the rainbow.
Aunts are special people. I have several. And they can often reach that part of children where parents are not allowed – by virtue of being a parent! You have a real chance of being her friend … For nieces know that sometimes an older friend is what they really need … Someone with experience and yet, on their side … They may never acknowledge this, but they know. Don’t let yours down …
Beautiful. xo
Bravo.
I am touched on so many levels by this post. One of your very best since I have been reading it. Thank you for sharing your heart and for making it big enough to have room for a young girl who needs a safe place to land as she develops her wings.
What is the Fellowship?
I have a older sister like that. Here we are in our fifties and she can still do exactly that to me. Withering. However a mother’s pride is powerful, she tries to do it to my son, she can cut me down all she likes, but never my boy.
Those early adolescent years make young souls so vulnerable, how wonderful you are able to share your animals and lifestyle this way especially with all the wisdom that comes with having raised your own children to success. I hope all goes well for her, you are certainly giving her a wonderful chance to take her life with both hands and make it her own. Well done you.
Wow… the power of words. My eyes were taking in the visual of the Farmy photos as the words impacted on my heart. My eyes started to leak and the photos got blurry… Good on you for speaking and sharing your truth. It touched us all in various ways. Over Christmas we spent extra and solo time with the G.O.’s 11 year old granddaughter, who was a delight and I can only imagine you will enjoy this 11 year old’s company and perspective just as much, and she yours.
I’m currently writing a story about a couple who many many years ago befriended the teenage G.O… hellion… what a great word! Parents do the best they can but sometimes can’t do it all, and kids anyway need supplementary people & environments to become rounded… sometimes I think people’s sharp edges occur when this doesn’t happen…
Speaking of which, your words ‘like fires flicked out” and the encounter aptly describe similar with a family member over the weekend, which I’ve been struggling to understand or let go of, but now I can see clearly. I felt hurt but sorry for her for being like that. A good lesson to us all.
I think you’ve gone beyond “Actually. I can.”… to “Actually. I do.” and “Actually. I am.” 🙂
C what a beautiful and amazing story this is and what a beautiful and amazing gift you are giving this young girl.
Your mean sister is just that..mean and clearly jealous of you because she can never be what you are! And she knows it!
You are a treasure Cinders!
I am crying. Sorry. I wish you lived where I grew-up! I wish I had a teacher who saw. For you see I was the one bullied. Terribly so. And sadly the worst bully was my Mom’s best friend and her oldest daughter. School was a nightmare untold and so was best friend’s visits to each other homes.
I’ve deleted so many sentences that I wanted to write here. I’ve said enough. I don’t know how to really say more.
Linda ❤⊱彡
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
https://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com/sherlock-boomer
Thank you. 11 is an important age. I hope you both continue to work well together. Who knows where I’d be now if someone had made that effort?
LOVE THIS. I regularly repeat the refrain that it takes a village! Good for you, and good for that teacher. I recently came across this article along those same lines: http://www.onbeing.org/blog/looking-for-ms-katy-a-search-to-express-gratitude-to-my-teacher/7256
Thank you so much for this post. I’ve not been blogging or reading blogs for a few months, so it was wonderful to come back and read this. You will make such a difference to this girl’s life. It made me cry, and reminded me of why I so love being a primary school teacher. It’s all about the relationships we can build.
What a wonderful story about your son and the teacher who could see him as something other than trouble. Bless you for paying it forward to this girl.