Author's Note: the following is a revised repost from the days before I had faithful readers. It was Summer 2008 when I worked part time at a day camp.
This afternoon I was playing "kickball" with some kids. We just kicked the soccer ball to each other, and the group changed every few minutes. A few five year olds, a six year old, a seven year old, and an eight year old. Eventually the bigger kids left and the five year olds had grown bored with "kickball." They moved on to "Let's make the teacher into a jungle gym."
When will that new playground be completed? The word "headache" means nothing to some five year olds.
An eight year old and I sat in the grass while the two five year olds ran back and forth between us leaping into our arms with the goal of knocking us over.
Ultimately, I was lying flat on my back with both of them in my lap giggling hysterically.
"I love you, Miss Katie," one of them said to me.
"I love you more!" the other countered.
"I love you both the most!" I responded.
Why do they love me? Five minutes ago they had to ask my name. They love me because I stick up for them (ten year olds tend to wreak havoc on "kickball" games), I get the ball when it rolls in the street (when will that new playground be done?), and I let them climb all over me (does it have monkey bars?).
God does a whole lot more for us than that, yet we still hesitate to tell Him we love Him. I might step out in front of a car to protect these girls, but I probably wouldn't willingly died a painful death for them. Yet Christ did, but sometimes I'm more willing to tell the girls of my love than I am Christ.
Tell Someone you love Him. Tell Him thanks.
Then spread the love tell someone else you love them. (And don't let it be me). Then tell them He loves them. (I already know that, so you still can't tell me).
Love,
<>< Katie
"Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.'" Matthew 19:14
Showing posts with label kickball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kickball. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Friday, November 12, 2010
The Brownie
Yesterday, Dr. Johnson (of the science department) threw a brownie with green frosting to Chelsea. Today said Key Lime Brownie made an appearance in our fiction writing class. Chelsea gave it to Logan. Logan gave it to me and told me he made it himself. I asked how he wrapped it in plastic and left it on Dr. Vance's desk. Saxon decided he wanted to eat said brownie.
Chomp.
Chew.
Chew.
Chew.
"That was disgusting! It was like coconut. Yeah, very bad choice."
Dr. Vance refused to eat the remainder of the brownie. At the end of class, the brownie missing one bite was still sitting on the desk.
"Somebody's going to have to take care of that," Dr. Vance said.
"That was a very bad decision," Saxon repeated.
The class concluded the brownie made out of ginkgo tree berries and injected with poison. Dr. Johnson knew Saxon would eat the poisonous brownie, thus making him incapable of playing kickball. He knew Dr. Vance would not refuse a brownie and the poison would make the English department short two vital kickball players. In the rule book we write, we will have to make sure distributing poisonous brownies is illegal.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you give a key lime, coconut brownie to a Fiction Writing class...
When the story got back to Dr. Johnson, he was amused. He said the brownie came from the bottom of a chemistry test tube. Saxon said it tasted like that could have been true.
<>< Katie
Chomp.
Chew.
Chew.
Chew.
"That was disgusting! It was like coconut. Yeah, very bad choice."
Dr. Vance refused to eat the remainder of the brownie. At the end of class, the brownie missing one bite was still sitting on the desk.
"Somebody's going to have to take care of that," Dr. Vance said.
"That was a very bad decision," Saxon repeated.
The class concluded the brownie made out of ginkgo tree berries and injected with poison. Dr. Johnson knew Saxon would eat the poisonous brownie, thus making him incapable of playing kickball. He knew Dr. Vance would not refuse a brownie and the poison would make the English department short two vital kickball players. In the rule book we write, we will have to make sure distributing poisonous brownies is illegal.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you give a key lime, coconut brownie to a Fiction Writing class...
When the story got back to Dr. Johnson, he was amused. He said the brownie came from the bottom of a chemistry test tube. Saxon said it tasted like that could have been true.
<>< Katie
Monday, May 10, 2010
Reading Day
Little secret: I am not athletic. Sometimes if I'm by myself I walk so fast that I'm winded by the time I get where I'm going, but that's the closest I ever get to running. Sports are not my strength. I played basketball in 5th grade and I got really good at catching the ball...with my nose. I spent enough nights at the eye doctor getting my glasses fixed that I realized the WMBA was not in my future. Fathers are supposed to teach their daughters how to throw and catch; somehow I missed that lesson. In seventh grade I took up tennis because I had a weapon against the ball. It wasn't long before I figured out my strongest spot on the tennis court was at the net because there's minimal running involved in a volley. I played for six years but then I graduated high school and now the most exercise I get is ten minutes on the Wii Fit. Knowing this about myself, I don't know why I ever thought this was a good idea.
Classes were cancelled on Friday, so we hosted our biannual kickball game. Last year the English department started a new tradition where we play kickball once a semester. For a year we played teams that basically boiled down to English Education vs. English Writing. Well, then the science department got jealous and in a cowardly way challenged us to kickball, calling themselves the superior department. If they were so superior I don't know why they needed to bring the math department with them in order to beat us but whatever. They won this past fall, and Friday was our opportunity to earn our ball back.
We had more players than they did, so some of our players didn't get to play in the field. Elizabeth and I took ones for the team and just kicked and cheered. My first two kicks I was out before making it to first base. My third kick I made it all the way to second but we already had two outs and the play at the first made three. My fourth kick I managed to eventually get all the way home scoring a point for the good guys. English won 16-12!
Sometime in the two minutes between when I got back to my apartment and when I was planning on getting in the shower, Chris called.
"Come play ultimate frisbee!"
Little known fact, it was one of my secret goals before graduating to play ultimate frisbee. It's kind of our school's favorite game, so I didn't think it would be right for me to graduate without playing. Even though I have one more year I figured now was as good a time as ever; plus, I was already sweaty. Oh, and still fighting this cold, minor detail.
"I'm not very good at frisbee," I told Chris.
"That's ok; I am," he said. Between the two of us we could be two average players.
I held my own and even touched the frisbee a few times. I didn't score, but Hannah (the girl I was guarding) didn't score either... except the first one which didn't count because it was part of warm ups. I really did enjoy myself and the "Oh, my gosh, I'm so out of shape and thirsty" feeling that I had for an hour. But I lived.
After getting cleaned up and eating Japanese for dinner, a few of us went to see a movie. It was 8:00 and I could have gone to be (mind you, I hadn't yet been awake for 12 hours that day). I almost made it all the way through the movie, too, but in the last ten minutes I made a mad-dash from the theater. Since I'm pretty prone to bloody noses, no one really thought anything of it. Nope, it's going to be a long time before I eat Japanese food again. :-( Other than for those few minutes, I feel fine; it's weird. Whatever. Although, more than that I'm more upset my no-puking streak has to start over at just shy of three years. Before that random stomach bug in the middle of July (who the heck gets sick in July? The kids I babysat...) it had been six and a half years. That's still my record. Oh, well. One day I will break it!
Happy Reading Day, Katie... next year you should stick to reading on Reading Day.
<>< Katie
Classes were cancelled on Friday, so we hosted our biannual kickball game. Last year the English department started a new tradition where we play kickball once a semester. For a year we played teams that basically boiled down to English Education vs. English Writing. Well, then the science department got jealous and in a cowardly way challenged us to kickball, calling themselves the superior department. If they were so superior I don't know why they needed to bring the math department with them in order to beat us but whatever. They won this past fall, and Friday was our opportunity to earn our ball back.
We had more players than they did, so some of our players didn't get to play in the field. Elizabeth and I took ones for the team and just kicked and cheered. My first two kicks I was out before making it to first base. My third kick I made it all the way to second but we already had two outs and the play at the first made three. My fourth kick I managed to eventually get all the way home scoring a point for the good guys. English won 16-12!
Sometime in the two minutes between when I got back to my apartment and when I was planning on getting in the shower, Chris called.
"Come play ultimate frisbee!"
Little known fact, it was one of my secret goals before graduating to play ultimate frisbee. It's kind of our school's favorite game, so I didn't think it would be right for me to graduate without playing. Even though I have one more year I figured now was as good a time as ever; plus, I was already sweaty. Oh, and still fighting this cold, minor detail.
"I'm not very good at frisbee," I told Chris.
"That's ok; I am," he said. Between the two of us we could be two average players.
I held my own and even touched the frisbee a few times. I didn't score, but Hannah (the girl I was guarding) didn't score either... except the first one which didn't count because it was part of warm ups. I really did enjoy myself and the "Oh, my gosh, I'm so out of shape and thirsty" feeling that I had for an hour. But I lived.
After getting cleaned up and eating Japanese for dinner, a few of us went to see a movie. It was 8:00 and I could have gone to be (mind you, I hadn't yet been awake for 12 hours that day). I almost made it all the way through the movie, too, but in the last ten minutes I made a mad-dash from the theater. Since I'm pretty prone to bloody noses, no one really thought anything of it. Nope, it's going to be a long time before I eat Japanese food again. :-( Other than for those few minutes, I feel fine; it's weird. Whatever. Although, more than that I'm more upset my no-puking streak has to start over at just shy of three years. Before that random stomach bug in the middle of July (who the heck gets sick in July? The kids I babysat...) it had been six and a half years. That's still my record. Oh, well. One day I will break it!
Happy Reading Day, Katie... next year you should stick to reading on Reading Day.
<>< Katie
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Chosen for God's Kickball Team
I played kickball with some friends today. I think it's safe to say none of us are kickball professionals, but we still had fun. By the end of the game, we were sore. Not in our legs. Rather our cheeks.
We smiled and laughed harder than any of us had in a long time. Our faces are definitely out of shape and need more exercise!
Smile and someone today. It'll make his/her day. It'll also help your facial muscles. :-)
<>< Katie
We smiled and laughed harder than any of us had in a long time. Our faces are definitely out of shape and need more exercise!
Smile and someone today. It'll make his/her day. It'll also help your facial muscles. :-)
<>< Katie
Monday, July 21, 2008
Love Like a Child
So my audience is JPR and Melissa... grrrreat... I'm going to do a writing no-no and not cater to my audience. I'm going to pretend you two are just among the plethora of people reading this (ok, wishful thinking much?). Otherwise all I'd write about were monkeys and zoos in Africa about which I have minimal experience. :-)
I was playing with some kids today. A few five year olds, a six year old, a seven year old, and an eight year old. We started out playing "kickball" (where you kick the soccer ball to each other... not real kickball) and our group changed every few minutes. Eventually we were left with two five year olds and the eight year old. They'd grown bored with "kickball" and had moved on to "Let's make the teacher into a jungle gym." (The word "migraine" means nothing to a five year old...) The two five year olds ran back and forth between the eight year old and I (both sitting in the grass) leaping into our arms with the goal of knocking us over. Ultimately, I was lying flat on my back with both of them on my lap giggling hysterically.
"I love you, Miss Katie," One of them said to me.
"I love you more!" the other countered.
"I love you both the most!" I responded.
Why do they love me? Five minutes ago they had to ask my name. They love me because I stick up for them (ten year olds tend to wreak havoc on five year olds' games of "kickball"...), I get the ball when it rolls in the street (stupid playground construction), and I let them climb all over me (when will the new playground be done again?). God does a whole lot more for us than that, yet we still hesitate to tell Him we love Him. I might step out in front of a car to protect them, but I probably wouldn't willingly died a painful death for them.
Tell Someone you love Him. Tell Him thanks.
Then spread the love tell someone else you love them. (And don't let it be me). Then tell them He loves them. (I already know that, so you still can't tell me).
My mom's been out of town for four days, and she came home crabby. She yelled at me for like ten different things (of most of which I had no prior knowledge) and said nothing about anything to my sister. Ok, who has the headache? Who worked for eight hours today? Who sat around and did nothing all day? Yeah, that's right. I got up at the crack of dawn and my sister slept in like a couch potato. Anyway. Mom's behavior wasn't helping my headache. She left for another four days. Even though I wasn't happy with her, on her way out the door I quoted our friend, "You're crabby today. Why are you crabby? You're crabby today. Just go away; you're crabby today" but added my own, "I love you. Bai."
In Christ,
<>< Katie
"Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.'" Matthew 19:14
I was playing with some kids today. A few five year olds, a six year old, a seven year old, and an eight year old. We started out playing "kickball" (where you kick the soccer ball to each other... not real kickball) and our group changed every few minutes. Eventually we were left with two five year olds and the eight year old. They'd grown bored with "kickball" and had moved on to "Let's make the teacher into a jungle gym." (The word "migraine" means nothing to a five year old...) The two five year olds ran back and forth between the eight year old and I (both sitting in the grass) leaping into our arms with the goal of knocking us over. Ultimately, I was lying flat on my back with both of them on my lap giggling hysterically.
"I love you, Miss Katie," One of them said to me.
"I love you more!" the other countered.
"I love you both the most!" I responded.
Why do they love me? Five minutes ago they had to ask my name. They love me because I stick up for them (ten year olds tend to wreak havoc on five year olds' games of "kickball"...), I get the ball when it rolls in the street (stupid playground construction), and I let them climb all over me (when will the new playground be done again?). God does a whole lot more for us than that, yet we still hesitate to tell Him we love Him. I might step out in front of a car to protect them, but I probably wouldn't willingly died a painful death for them.
Tell Someone you love Him. Tell Him thanks.
Then spread the love tell someone else you love them. (And don't let it be me). Then tell them He loves them. (I already know that, so you still can't tell me).
My mom's been out of town for four days, and she came home crabby. She yelled at me for like ten different things (of most of which I had no prior knowledge) and said nothing about anything to my sister. Ok, who has the headache? Who worked for eight hours today? Who sat around and did nothing all day? Yeah, that's right. I got up at the crack of dawn and my sister slept in like a couch potato. Anyway. Mom's behavior wasn't helping my headache. She left for another four days. Even though I wasn't happy with her, on her way out the door I quoted our friend, "You're crabby today. Why are you crabby? You're crabby today. Just go away; you're crabby today" but added my own, "I love you. Bai."
In Christ,
<>< Katie
"Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.'" Matthew 19:14
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Purpose Driven Life
I scored a run in church kickball today. (I was really excited).
I think it was the first run I've scored in my life. (Just kidding... but not really).
But God still loves me. (He didn't create me to play pro-kickball or baseball or football or ...).
But God created me for other things. (Like to eat my family's left over garlic bread).
And I'm ok with that. (Somedays).
Moral of the story: God created us for different purposes (no, we're not porpoises.)
Melissa wanted a short post. I don't do short and sweet. I do verbose (First hand application of Murphy's Law) and "Telemundo in English" (thank you, Tim). This is as short as it's going to get (so enjoy it).
The end.
<>< Katie
"It's in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for. Long before we first heard of Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us, had designs on us for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is working out in everything and everyone." Ephesians 1:11-12 (MSG)
I think it was the first run I've scored in my life. (Just kidding... but not really).
But God still loves me. (He didn't create me to play pro-kickball or baseball or football or ...).
But God created me for other things. (Like to eat my family's left over garlic bread).
And I'm ok with that. (Somedays).
Moral of the story: God created us for different purposes (no, we're not porpoises.)
Melissa wanted a short post. I don't do short and sweet. I do verbose (First hand application of Murphy's Law) and "Telemundo in English" (thank you, Tim). This is as short as it's going to get (so enjoy it).
The end.
<>< Katie
"It's in Christ that we find out who we are and what we are living for. Long before we first heard of Christ and got our hopes up, he had his eye on us, had designs on us for glorious living, part of the overall purpose he is working out in everything and everyone." Ephesians 1:11-12 (MSG)
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