the questions, observations, laments, psalms, classic anecdotes, prayers, & stories of jeremiah aja. enjoy it like a sweaty plastic cup filled with strawberry lemonade & crushed ice.

Monday, January 21, 2008

stories

A friend told me during our Christmas vaca that I should throw this up on the blog. Be forewarned it gets a bit “schooly” towards the end because it had to be. For a class last semester, we were asked to write about why a particular author used stories to communicate techniques. And because for me, most of the time, working MUST involve playing, I simply wrote a fun story to communicate my answer. Hopefully, you’ll enjoy the read and hear the answer even before the end.

As a kindergartener, my slim cut Rustler jeans remained baggy around my gangly legs. The elastic waistband was no match for my non-existent hips. My mom often exited Sears in wardrobe frustration. Behind the curtain of a bargain priced cotton and polyester blend was the saddest pair of scabbed and knobby knees Dallas, TX had ever seen. My maroon striped polo shirt buttoned to my throat and housed my sinewy arms, but just barely. In Miss McKutcheon’s classroom that year, I received more ogles than glue sticks and gold stars put together. In her class, after our naptime was the best part of the day- snack time.
Perforated graham crackers, generic Goldfish, and half slices of white bread, peanut butter painted, waited for us on yellow tables. Apple juice boxes with bendy straws flowed like wine, in the wine for five year olds sense, of course. But, the second best part of the day was story time, which happened after our feasting.
Story time took all of us sleepy eyed and cookie crumbing kids to exciting places five times a week. I cherished it as much as the smell of McDonald’s lingering on the lucky kid whose Dad surprised them at lunchtime. For all of us sitting there on the industrial carpet, we were swallowed into the whirlpool of story. Much like you are right now, I hope.
Stories clutch us by the sleeve of our attention spans and take us for a trip. They reach out and capture us like a school of fish. They may drop us off at a Lamaze lesson, an algebra concept, or a three-point sermon. Stories can pinpoint emotions and concepts like nothing else. They are the exhilarating bus rides to the state capital - half the fun is in the ride there. Great writers know this, Schutlze especially. He will open or close a lesson with a story, solely to deliver us to a truth about communicating. Perhaps all of life and its critical lessons are learned in the process, the journey, the ride. Hop on in, just don’t put your hands out the window.


I cant wait until Feb 6th…dad to a son or daughter?
From Wilmore, with Love.

5 comments:

KellyLawson22 said...

This was (is) a great story!! You did a great job with this one.

Pipe down, you magpies!

Jeremiah said...

...or else i will SCOLD you!

thanks friend!

Happy Birthday!

jason said...

very nice...I was transported back to the fifth grade...love the "smell of McDonald's" and "peanut-butter painted" YES!!!

Anonymous said...

As good of a communicator as you are, I was still somehow kinda shocked at how well your adjective-laden conversational style translates into prose!

This story was BOMB, and I think portends a future book deal!

lj

Meredith said...

This is great Jeremiah - bravo. I didn't know you grew up in Dallas...so did I!