Dare to Care

create, communicate, collaborate, and think critically

26/Mar/2017
by Denise Krebs
7 Comments

Breakfast

“Another breakfast, Peggy!! Why are you so kind to me?”

“Where is your water bottle,” she asked, not worried about answering my rhetorical question.

“It’s on my desk. Right there, with the rose from our Mother’s Day assembly in it,” I answered.

“OK, you can’t drink out of that one, but you need some water,” Peggy told me this morning, as I enjoyed eating the generous and healthy breakfast she brought me–a cheese sandwich, yogurt, a kiwi, a tangerine, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, an egg, and a granola bar (from her daughter). Soon there was water too.

Yesterday, she brought me the breakfast in the picture below, and she promised another breakfast for tomorrow.

Why? My husband has been in the hospital for the last four days, and I’ve been with him. Of course, I didn’t have time to really cook, but I have certainly had time to eat thanks to the loving gifts of so many sweet friends–Peggy, Vinolia, Victoria, Molly, Georgina, and more coming in the next few days.

Thank you, friends, and thank you, God, for such a warm hospitable place I get to call home.

Delicious breakfast from my dear friend. #green #cy365 #t365project

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25/Mar/2017
by Denise Krebs
3 Comments

So many blog posts!

I have been spending the last three hours publishing my students’ blog posts, with a few distractions. It has been my first year blogging with grade 5.

I never had so much enthusiasm with grade 7-8 when I taught them blogging. They were older, more capable, and native English speakers, but they were also more reluctant. Now I have 50 students, English language learners, busy with lots of homework and a testing kind of culture, yet so many of them choose to write and comment from home in the evenings and weekends. It’s been great fun!

Today, the busyness with my class blog, plus the fact that I spent the day in the hospital is making this my Slice of Life post. (I was in the hospital with my husband, who is recovering from some medical issues–not all resolved yet.)

 

 

24/Mar/2017
by Denise Krebs
4 Comments

First Floor

I had a memory today of when I first moved to Bahrain. I had only been driving for a month or two, and I took a solo trip to the mall, where I was to meet some teachers for lunch. I was told the restaurant, Yellow Chile, was on the first floor. I wandered around the mall for 15-20 minutes or so looking for the restaurant. I was early, so I didn’t have to be in a hurry. I was just enjoying the mall, assuming I’d get to it eventually.

Finally, I realized I needed to find it since I began worrying that maybe I went to the wrong mall. I asked someone, and she told me, “It’s on the first floor by the cinema.”

From the confused look on my face, she may have realized I was speaking American English. She pointed UP the escalator.

When I got to the restaurant, I asked my friends about it, “I thought you said the Yellow Chile was on the first floor!”

“It is!” they said.

I just thought that was weird to be sitting on the second floor and have them calling it the first floor. I don’t know that I said that, though. There were lots of cultural differences back then that kept my thinking off-kilter, and I usually didn’t ask as many questions as I really had.

Fast forward three years, and today I was walking in the hall in my building. I use the stairs and elevators all the time, and I know which floor I’m on at any given time.

I live on the fifth floor, but it literally is the sixth level. When I stop to think that my building is a six-story building, like I did today, I’m reminded that is unusual. For the most part, however, I don’t think about it anymore, it’s just become what I’m used to now.

I wonder if when I go back home someday, I will think the way floors are named in the U.S. is weird and have to get used to that again.

I’m walking across the second floor bridge, but in the U.S., wouldn’t that top floor be called the third floor?

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24/Mar/2017
by Denise Krebs
2 Comments

Bread and Butter Sandwich

This is a throwback Thursday post from Teachers’ Write last summer. This has been quite a week for me. I need to kick start my writing, but for today: this. It’s an autobiography of me as Jo in the lunch room with my bread and butter sandwich.

“I don’t have a sandwich,” she said, with furrowed eyebrows, her hazel eyes staring deeply across the table. That sycophantic six-year-old boy always tried to ruin her life!

“No, teacher. I saw her sandwich, and then it was gone. She didn’t eat it. I know she didn’t,” he said with a smug smile.

Jo held the bread and butter under the table with both hands, willing it to compress into a smaller space. It’s NOT a sandwich, she thought to herself. She gazed directly at the teacher.

“OK, children. Don’t fight. Your mom packed it for you, so eat all your lunch,” the teacher said, distractedly, as she hurried to the next table to deal with spilled milk.

Jo’s shoulders relaxed, and she loosened her vice grip on the bread and butter “sandwich.” She stealthily moved her brown paper lunch bag under the table. Then Jo stuffed the squished wax paper-wrapped remains into the bag with her other lunch waste. Bread and butter is not supposed to be folded. Bread and butter is what you eat at home, not at school, she brooded.

Originally published here.

22/Mar/2017
by Denise Krebs
2 Comments

You Have Set My Feet in a Spacious Place

It’s been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, but I read Psalm 31 tonight. It’s a great passage for when you are sick or down. Here are some selected verses before I go to bed for the night.

1 In you, Lord, I have taken refuge;
let me never be put to shame;
deliver me in your righteousness.
2 Turn your ear to me,
come quickly to my rescue;
be my rock of refuge,
a strong fortress to save me.

8 You have not given me into the hands of the enemy
but have set my feet in a spacious place.
9 Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress;
my eyes grow weak with sorrow,
my soul and body with grief.
those who see me on the street flee from me.
12 I am forgotten as though I were dead;
I have become like broken pottery.
13 For I hear many whispering,
“Terror on every side!”
They conspire against me
and plot to take my life.
14 But I trust in you, Lord;
I say, “You are my God.”
15 My times are in your hands;
deliver me from the hands of my enemies,
from those who pursue me.
16 Let your face shine on your servant;
save me in your unfailing love.

20 In the shelter of your presence you hide them
from all human intrigues;
you keep them safe in your dwelling
from accusing tongues.
21 Praise be to the Lord,
for he showed me the wonders of his love
when I was in a city under siege.
22 In my alarm I said,
“I am cut off from your sight!”
Yet you heard my cry for mercy
when I called to you for help.
23 Love the Lord, all his faithful people!
The Lord preserves those who are true to him,
but the proud he pays back in full.
24 Be strong and take heart,
all you who hope in the Lord.

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