|
AMERICA RISES
When September 11, 2001 occurred, the world changed in many ways. Our sense of personal security and safety was compromised. What had been deemed untouchable and indestructible had, indeed, been touch and destroyed. I was a substitute teacher in the North Arlington schools at the time. To keep the children entertained after the day’s lesson had been completed, I had, over the previous months, brought in various arts and crafts projects for the kids to work on. Lately, having taken up woodcarving, and being as excited with it as any kid with a new toy, I had brought in wood projects, which would launch spirited discussions and keep them occupied until the final bell. After class, on the first day that the schools reopened, I was met by a small delegation of middle school students. The class had been particularly subdued that day, and I had learned that one of the students had lost her father in the towers. The children asked me if I would help them to “make a memorial.” I had assumed, naturally, that since they had seen me in uniform, picking up donations of food and toys for Christmas over the years, that they wanted to help the Salvations Army’s effort. I was mistaken. After an extended discussion, the children made clear that they wanted to actually carve a memorial sculpture to honor their friend and others who died. I was overwhelmed at both the depth of their compassion and the fact they came to me. Of course, I accepted on the spot. They went home satisfied that their mission had been successfully accomplished. I went home feeling like I may have made a promise I couldn’t keep and that I needed BIG help to get out of it. I cried. I prayed. I contacted the principal of the middle school, hoping he would say, “Sorry, you can’t POSSIBLY do that!” No such luck. The principal called the Superintendent of Schools and set up a meeting for that afternoon. I walked in with the feeling that this would be the end of the road, and I could go back to the kids with a clear conscience and the reassurance that I had tried, but it just wasn’t practical. No such luck. The Superintendent thought it was a perfect way for the kids to have an appropriate outlet for their grief and give something to the community. She gave me a space to work in the high school art department and access to funds to pay for supplies. I went back to the middle school and asked the kids to start drawing. They came up with a beautiful concept, incorporating elements from the tower rubble, the Pentagon, the Statue of Liberty and the American eagle perched over all. I was speechless. One of the students said that her younger sister wanted to help, too, as did my own children, who were in 2nd grade. Could we have a coloring contest to decide the colors? I said I would ask. By then, the high school art teacher had heard about the project and wondered if her students could observe the carving process. I said I would check to see if they would be allowed to help. After another meeting with the superintendent, everything was set. Local businesses (word travels fast!) had offered to donate safety equipment for the high school art students to use. Staples offered to print enough copies of the black and white sketch for every child in grades pre-k to 5 to participate in the coloring contest. A local cabinetmaker donated his time and power tools to get the basic shape cut out. The only problem was, I had only been carving for three months and as the project developed, I began to realize that I was in WAY over my head. I was about to let a lot of people down. I cried. I prayed. I shared my concerns with a fellow woodcarver who suggested that I come to a woodcarving club meeting and talk to a few people during the coffee break. I hoped to get a few pointers on simplifying the project and then go home quietly. No such luck. It turns out; I was to be the guest speaker at the meeting. Surprise! Of course, if I’d known ahead of time, I would have been paralyzed. God is SO good…. I presented my dilemma, the kids’ sketches and opened the floor for discussion. I have never heard so many conflicting opinions in my life, but the general consensus was, “Boy, I’m glad it’s you and not me!” I was heartbroken. I was embarrassed. I took my seat and waited for the meeting to be over. As I was slithering out the back way, a distinguished older gentleman stopped me. He was tall, bearded and impeccably dressed. He wore a black beret and leaned on an ornately hand carved cane. “I will help the children with the eagle. Come over tomorrow. I am Holger Jensen from Denmark. Here is my telephone number.” Holger, by his example of being an encourager instead of a naysayer, encouraged other carvers to join together and be supportive. During the many hours we spent together during the course of the project, he shared with me his deep Christian faith and many amusing tales of his childhood in Denmark. He also spoke of driving a horse-drawn milk wagon in New Jersey and of the loss of his wife and son many years earlier. He took me on as apprentice and shared with me the value of giving and sharing just for the joy of it. The project was completed by the following March. There was a lovely public presentation, attended by everyone involved in the process. Holger died not long after, 97 years old, peacefully in his sleep at home. “America Rises” now stands in the North Arlington Free Library. What did I learn through this process? That’s an easy one… With God, ALL things are possible. back to healing hands healing hearts
|
