For A Reason

Everything happens for a reason.

Have you heard that before?  Did you believe it?  Do you tell yourself that when things don't happen the way you want? Or do you tell yourself that when things do go the way you want?  Did you agree with the people from whom you heard it?  Or did you mock it as a trite phrase to make people feel better about the crap in their life?

In my life, I have gone back and forth on this one.  At certain times in my life, I have whole heartedly believed that everything happens for a reason.  While at other times, I have ridiculed the idea.  Looking back at a few events in my life now, I must say that I believe that everything happens for a reason.  I am here, with my life experiences under my belt, and each one happened for a reason.  They have formed me, and those around me.

I threw away my first recruiting letter from Linfield College.  I thought I was too good for them, and I should be at a bigger school, but then their coach came to my school and convinced me to make a trip.  I cancelled all of my other scheduled trips after visiting Linfield, and I believe that I was supposed to be a Wildcat.  I met some of the best people I know while going to school there and received an individualized education.  I could not imagine attending any other college.

Six years ago I chose to sell my condo in Bothell and move to Oregon.  And although I lost my shirt(and pants for that matter) on the condo I bought in Beaverton, I feel like I was supposed to be at Stoller Middle School that year.  I feel that there were a few kids in that class that I was meant to teach. I made connections with those kids and changed their views on math and education in general.  Additionally, I was meant to spend a great deal of time with my friends as they entered their initial parental years.  I was meant to be there to help and support them, but I was also supposed to see them grow as people and parents.  This changed my perspectives on many things and has formed me as a person.

There is a reason I am back at Leota Junior High.  There is a reason I sought treatment for my depression.  There is a reason I made life changes to be more healthy.  There is a reason I am writing this, and there is a reason you are reading it.  Accept it, believe it and react to it positively.

Reason to Relay

You have all heard me speak about my reason to Relay, or you read about it on my blog last Spring.  A student at my school participated in her first Relay For Life last year, and this year she will be speaking at our school's first Relay meeting. She asked me to read her draft and provide her feedback.  I am sharing her words, with her permission.

____________________________________________________

Hi.

I am not much for public speaking so just avoid eye contact and it will all be just fine. ;)

My name is Allison. I am in 8th grade. I am 13 years old, and have two brothers, 2 chickens, a dog, 1 fish, and I had cancer. Ugg... I hate that word, cancer.  I participated in Relay For Life last year and it was an experience I would never forget.  Walking my first Survivor Lap was a moment that is irreplaceable.  I walked with my whole family, my team was cheering me on, and I couldn’t help but smile! This smile was an honest smile, the smile that you try so hard to hold in but it sneaks out. This wasn't a posed smile in a photo, but 100% REAL! That is what Relay For Life is all about; it is REAL people coming to support REAL Survivors, to remember REAL loved ones, and to raise a REAL lot of money for a REAL bad disease. That is why I Relay!

I am participating in the American Cancer Society’s Relay For Life because I want to make a HUGE difference in the fight against cancer!

Almost everyone has been touched by cancer, either through their own personal battle or through someone they love.

When I was 9 months old, I was diagnosed with liver cancer. I am now 13 years old and 12 years cancer free! How great is that?!

I am so glad that the doctors found my cancer when I was young. Early detection was key to saving my life. Also because of that, I don't remember any of the treatment itself, but I do remember the aftercare. What aftercare is for those who don’t know, it is the process after cancer is in remission to make sure it never EVER comes back, and it also meant a lot of hospital visits. Yes, it was hard going in every week for quite some time getting tests done, and I don’t want ANYONE to have to go through that. THAT IS WHY I AM RELAYING!

On December 10th 2012, about a week ago, my mom told the family that she was diagnosed with stage one breast cancer. It is scary, I don’t know how to handle it. A few days later she went to the doctor and they said that she won't have to go through chemo, and surgery, but that simple radiation will cure it. Thank Goodness. 

If you are thinking, Cancer is everywhere right now. Lots of people have it, so lots of money is already being raised, so why should I even raise $100? I will tell you why, because $100 can save a life! 

I used to think, "Why me?"  But NOW I know that I had cancer and survived for a reason. I am not ashamed to say, "YES, I am a survivor!"

Please join a Relay team or make a donation to help the American Cancer Society to create a world with less cancer and more birthdays. Together, we can help make sure that cancer never steals or ruins another year of anyone’s life.

I posted this last year as well...

It's Not Easy Being Santa
By Rick Reilly

It's that time of year again, when our thoughts turn to that lovable plus-sized elf with the ruddy red cheeks, the white hair and the belly of jelly, the one who never needs an airplane.

John Madden.

No, actually, Santa Claus.

This holiday season the morals of a lot of athletes are lower than flounder droppings. The other day I heard a worried announcer say, "What must kids think of the way we adults are behaving?" But you really can't ask kids because when a kid is asked a question by an adult, the only thing the kid thinks is, How huge are this man's nostrils?

Kids trust Santa, though. They'll tell Santa anything. So I set out to conduct the Santa Sports Survey. Disguised as Saint Nick, I would spend 90 minutes at each of three Boys & Girls Clubs in metro Denver. I loaded the trunk with toys and trinkets, borrowed a Santa suit from the Cherry Creek Mall and called Susen Mesco of Amerevents.com, which runs one of the best Santa Schools in the country.

"Don't play Santa," she advised. "Be Santa."

She also said something odd. "Never ask what the children want for Christmas." Huh? "Ask, What would you like to tell Santa? Because a lot of times, what they want has nothing to do with toys. For instance, what will you do if a child says, 'Santa, I want you to bring my mommy back to life'?"

(Silence)

"You say, 'Sorry, Santa can't do that. But you know what? Sometimes our sleigh flies so high, we pass right by heaven. What do you want to tell your mom, and I'll give her a message.'"

I wasn't sure I was ready for this.

The clubs were all in poor sections of the city. At each club I was given a room and about 70 squirmy kids, ages six to 10. And right away I learned something -- I make a lousy Santa.

"Who are you?" one girl asked.

"Since when does Santa drive a sedan?" a boy said, suspiciously.

"Uh, that hurts," another girl said as I tried to tickle her.

One kid wanted to know how old I was. "Just turned 1,310," I said. He went Frisbee-eyed. I said, "I know, I don't look that old."

"No, you do," he said.

One little girl wanted to know where Rudolph was. "Rudolph pulled a hammy," I said. "This year the sleigh is going to be guided by Sylvester, from the temp agency."

(Blank stare)

I kept trying to ask my state-of-sports questions, but I might as well have been asking about pork-belly futures. Not one of them knew about Barry Bonds's BALCO connection. In fact, if I were running baseball, I'd be worried. Not one kid had a favorite ballplayer. Not one of them wanted a bat or glove. Few of them even had favorite pros in any sport: Local hero Carmelo Anthony of the Nuggets was mentioned the most, followed by two Philadelphia stars, Terrell Owens of the Eagles and Allen Iverson of the Sixers. The athletes the kids most wanted to spend time with were their dads.

"Could you bring me a fishing pole so my daddy will take me fishing with him?" one little girl asked. Another wanted a soccer ball, "'cause I think my dad would play soccer with me then."

I kept trying to hit them with survey questions like, "Do you view athletes as role models in this age of ...," and they kept hitting me with real life.

"Santa, for Christmas could you make the bill collectors stop coming?" one boy said. "It makes my mom cry."

A little girl said, "Santa, could you bring us a new house? The one we have now leaks all the time."

Lots of kids wanted hats and shoes and coats. "I want clothes," said one boy. What kind? "The warm kind," he said.

Another kid wanted to be an NBA star and make "a million dollars."

"What would you spend it on?" I asked.

"Doctors," she said, "for my cousin. She's four. She has cancer."

I told one seven-year-old boy, "Last year I came by and you were still awake, so I had to go do Dallas first until you fell asleep. So this year I want you to go right to sleep."

And he said, "That's not true, Santa. Last year you forgot my house."

I learned nothing new about sports, but plenty about how spoiled my life was, how Scroogish my spirit, how narrow my vision.

One somber eight-year-old girl was making her first visit to the club. She'd been sent from another state to live with her uncles because there were "issues" at home. She looked as if somebody had just sat on her birthday cake.

"What can Santa make you this Christmas?" I asked her.

She turned and looked at me with huge, hopeful eyes.
"Happy?" she asked.

Be Santa.