In Kindergarten I also started taking lessons for the first time. Lessons is where your Mama and Daddy give some other grown up money to take their kid for a while and make them do something boring even though they don't want to. My Mama and Daddy decided that I should take Ballet. At first I was really excited cause my Mama said that Ballet was all dancing, but she was wrong. Mostly ballet is when you go to this big room with mirrors all over the walls and try to make your body stretch in directions that it never wanted to before. They know that your body doesn't want to stretch that way so they give you this great big long bar to hold onto while you try to get your body to go the way they tell you it should. Ms. Maybell started us in “first position”.

“alright girls you take your toes and point them as far out as they will go.”

Then I found out that Ms. Maybell was really a witch! She hardly seemed to wiggle anywhere else but all the sudden her toes were pokin' straight out sideways from her body!

She started walkin' around to each of us girls and tryin' to make our toes go like hers. She grabbed hold of my left foot and started to turn it, but the floor was slick and instead of my foot turnin' all of me turned instead. So then she took my right foot and started turnin' it out instead, but then my whole body turned that way the same as it had before.

“Tut, tut dear you really must try helping me here. Turn them yourself as far as you can.”

I started tryin' to make them turn out and in a few painful moments I had them nearly where they should be. Then I realized Ms. Maybell had been holding onto my shoulders. I realized this cause she let go. With my feet turned like that I couldn't catch myself and fell down flat on my face. I tasted that flavor that you get when you suck on the hangers from the dry cleaning store. It was then that my Mama came running over from the chairs and looked worried. My front teeth had gone clean through my lower lip. My Mama grabbed a maxipad out of her purse and pushed it against my face. When we went running toward the front door the lady at the desk handed Mama her money back.

I got four stitches, and Mama bought me a cool metal stick with balls on the ends. It was called a baton and the next day I met Ms. Roberts at the community center to learn how to twirl it! We were havin' all kinds of fun in her twirlin' class. She taught us to stir witches brew real loose like. I told her I met a real witch that could turn her toes out and everything, but she just giggled a little and went on. Then we started to turn the baton in figure eights sideways. She showed us that the faster and faster that it went the better it looked so I tried to make mine turn real fast. That was when one of those balls caught the end of my nose. I tasted hangers again, only this time I also saw stars. Mama slapped another maxipad on my face and got her money back again. My nose started to swell up so much that I had to breath through my mouth.

My daddy decided that I was just to soft and needed lessons that would toughen me up so the next day he took me to a place called karate. I got a soft white suit and a nifty white belt that went around me twice and tied in a knot. The man in front of us bowed so I curtsied just like my Granny Pluma had taught me. His eyes twinkled a little and then we all got to punch invisible things in the air. The he handed out these neat rubber boards and told us to divide into partners to practice the punches again. I had a pretty orange board, and was given a little boy with a purple belt on to be my partner. I held the board low and he punched it. I held it off to the side and he punched it. Then I noticed there was a crack in it and went to see if he had broken the board, and he punched it, and it hit me right in the eyes. I fell backwards on the mat and the stars went twinklin' in front of my face.

Mama wasn't home so Daddy decided we should go back to the hospital to see if I was okay. My eyes were swelling up to match my nose and it was getting hard to see out. The nurse at the hospital took me from my Daddy and said that they were gonna take a few pictures of the inside of my head just in case. She left daddy in the waiting room and gave me an ice pack for my face. Then she asked me why my Daddy had hit me.

“My Daddy didn't hit me a little boy did.”

“A little boy hit you in both eyes at the same time?”

“Well he hit me with a board, and the board hit both eyes.”

“And your daddy let him?”

“My daddy paid for him to, and he didn't even get his money back!”

“Well what about your nose?”

“I hit my self while making figure eights.”

“You were ice skating?”

“No, I was twirlin'.”

“What about the stitches? How did you end up with those.”

“A witch caused that. I really don't want to talk about it though 'cause I don't think the twirlin' lady believed me.”

When she took me back to my room there was another lady out in the hall. Soon the nurse was talkin' to her kind of soft and I only heard a few words....

“Figure eights...self mutilation....maybe a cult...”

I love colts. Maybe they were gonna talk Mama and Daddy into letting me try horse back riding next! I was real excited when the lady came in to talk to me 'cause maybe she owned the ranch with the colts!

“Hi Sylvania, My name is Ms. Moore and I want to talk to you a little about your face would that be okay?”

“Sure. How many horses do you have?”

“Horses? I don't have any horses dear. I work for the Department of Children's Services. The hospital called cause they were a little worried about all the bumps and things on your face. Can you tell me how you got them?”

“I guess that I am just not very good at learnin' my lessons.”

“So if you don't do something right your parents hit you?”

“Oh no. My parents don't believe in hitting. They take away the Flintstones if we do something wrong. They just tried to get me lessons and I am not very good at them.”

“What about the witch that you told the nurse about Sylvania?”

“Her name is Ms. Maybell and she runs the ballet school. She can turn her toes clear out sideways. She don't even seem to try they just turn that way. I tried, but when she let go I fell on my face and got stitches.”

“Oh...and the figure eights?”

“ That was my fault. I was trying to twirl figure eights with my baton, and caught myself right on the end of the nose. I don't think they will let me go back to twirlin' class and I liked it the best I think. At least there I hit myself. In karate another kid hit me, and I think he blacked both my eyes. Are my eyes blacked?”

“Yes dear they are...that happened at karate?”

“Yeah. The only thing I was good at there was the curtsy, and that was just 'cause Granny Pluma had already taught me how. Is my Daddy ready to take me home now? I'm getting a little hungry and my Mama and Amber had gone to the fruit stand to buy corn on the cob for dinner. Doesn't that sound good with butter and salt? I bet Mama will even cut it off the cob for me so I don't get salt in my stitches. She's real nice like that. Would you like to come have some with us? I don't think they would mind, and then you could meet my sister Amber, she is to young for lessons so there aint nothin' wrong with her face.”

“No honey that's okay, I have to go talk to the nurse.”

“Does she have horses?”

“No, why?”

“'Cause I heard her tell you something about colts and I thought maybe Daddy was gonna let me try riding lessons next. I love colts.”

I heard Ms. Moore laughing as soon as the door closed, and then Daddy came in and picked me up to take me home. He had called Mama from the hospital, and sure enough when I got home the corn on the cob was already cut off with butter and salt. It was sure good. Too bad Ms. Moore didn't come have some with us.

There were some great comments on the poem so here is a chapter of a book I am working on. See what you think, and if you like it I will post another sample chapter.

Most kids I know have names that mean something. My friend Maddy was named after the island of Madagascar where her parents met while workin' in the Peace Corp. Her brother, Jerry, is named after his dad Big Jerry, and my little sister Amber is named after the color of stones that match her eyes. Mama said that they just knew those deep eyes of hers would turn the same shade of brown as her own. I on the other hand happened to be born on July 21 1969, and my parents had not thought of a name for me. Mama wanted to name me after her Granny Pluma, and my daddy thought we should name me after his sister Bertha Lou who delivered me when Doc Davies didn't get to the hospital in time. The fact that neither of those names sound really bad to me should tell you that my parents did something awful to me, and you are right, they did. They named me after their link to that moment in history. I am forever cursed with Sylvania cause that was the kind of T.V. That was in Mama's hospital room as they watched mans first steps on the moon. I would have loved to be named Apollo, or Buzz, but no, I was a little girl, and got stuck with Sylvania!

When I started school the teacher was reading off the names so quick that she called me Sylvia. I knew she was talking about me 'cause she called...

”Buttars...Sylvia Buttars? Are you here sweetie?”

“Here.” I answered, and hoped she didn't look back at the list. She called me Sylvia for a whole week and I loved it, then Mama came in with cookies for the class and one of them whispered...

“Thank you Sylvia...”

“Oh no,” Mama answered, “That's pronounced Sylvania dear, you know like the television sets?”

That was the end of me having a human name instead of a machine. All the kids giggled a little, but then Mama explained that they had watched the moon landing the day I was born and they knew they were in changing times. Most of the kids thought that was okay then, I had to be named to keep up with those changes. I wonder what that means to poor Amber, they have had rocks forever, does that mean she is like a cave girl at heart?

Well I loved Kindergarten. Doesn't everyone love Kindergarten? The hard decisions of what finger paint colors you would like to use, or whether or not you use a straw with your milk. I used to take the straw. After I used it I would put it in my pocket and take it home. I would wash it real good, and then I could bribe Amber to play school with me by telling her she could drink water out of a real school straw. One day my teacher caught me savin' it for Amber, she told me that I couldn't do that anymore 'cause it was “unsanitary”. I heard her talkin' later with the other Kindergarten teacher on the playground about how we trailer trash kids had so little that she just didn't know how we survived sometimes. That night when we were at the dinner table I looked at the food, Mama had made buttermilk biscuits, and we had a jar of homemade gooseberry jam. She sliced thin pieces of sharp yellow cheese, and poured glasses of ice cold milk. I knew we each had a fresh peach for desert to eat outside while we watched the sun go down too. When Mama put dinner in front of me I thought that it looked wonderful, but then wondered if other kids were eating more than we were.

“Mama, if I were still hungry after dinner what would you do?”

“You on a growth spurt honey? There are enough biscuits here you can have as many as you like, and I can slice some more cheese if you want some.”

“So we have enough that we are survivin'?”

“Survivin'? What do you mean survivin?”

“My teacher said that she doesn't know how trailer trash like us survives cause we got so little, but I can't remember anytime that I've even been hungry for more than a few hours, and I never have been cold 'cepting when I wanted and threw my covers off in front of the window. I got clothes, and books, and toys, and you and Daddy and Amber, I even got kittens, and lot's of the kids that have houses aint got no kittens.”

“Don't have any kittens honey.”

“Well they don't.”

“Maybe you need to tell your teacher what it is that you have. Maybe she isn't seeing the kids who really need things in your class, and maybe you should tell her.”

I thought about this all night long and started to make a list in my head. The next day when we were about to go out to recess, I asked my teacher if I could talk to her for a minute. She got a worried look on her face, and said okay, but outside.

“I been thinking a lot about this and I think you need to know something.”

“What Sylvania, is there something you need?”

“No, but I think some of the other kids need some things so I thought I should tell you. Mitchel needs a new jacket. He has one but he always gives it to his brother on his way home. His brothers hands get cold, and he's bigger than Mitchel and tells him he will slug him if he doesn't give him his jacket too.”

“Well I think maybe we should talk to their mom and get his brother some gloves so Mitchel could keep his jacket, how 'bout that?”

“That could work. Jessica needs a toothbrush.”

“A toothbrush?”

“Here at school. Her mama is always late for work and throws her in the car eating a granola bar for breakfast. If she had a toothbrush here at school she could brush the chocolate off her teeth before rug time and not look gross with brown teeth.”

“I will think about that Sylvania and...”

“AnnaMarie needs a new daddy.”

“What?!?”

“She needs a new daddy. Her mama was talking to mine in the hall the other day, and she told her that if her husband took any more trips with his secretary that she was gonna throw him out. The next day when he picked up AnnaMarie, 'cause her mama was at the doctor, he told her that she would have to ask her mother if she could go to TammieSue's birthday party. AnnaMarie asked why and he said he had to go out of town with his secretary for work again. I figure it is only a matter of time until AnnaMaries mama kicks him out. So I think she needs a new daddy.”

“Sylvania, I don't think you should be talking about all of your classmates this way. I don't think it is nice to spread gossip.”

“But I had to tell you cause you are worried about the wrong kids in the class”

“What do you mean?”

“You told the other teacher that we trailer trash have so little that you don't know how we survive. Darian, Maddy and I are the only ones that live in the trailer park. I play at their places all the time. We all have plenty of food. We have our families. We even have a playground that no one but us can play on 'less we invite them. It's the other kid's in the class that need stuff. I even have two kittens of my very own, and not any of the kids that live in houses have kittens. I asked them, a few have cats, but I am the only one with two little kittens of my very own.”

My teacher turned really red after that. I don't even remember her name anymore. I know that she stopped having recess at the same time as the other kindergarten class so she didn't talk about us kids on the playground anymore. She didn't even teach in my school the next year. I heard she even left the state, but I can't know for sure so that could just be gossip.

I was sitting up late last night, unable to sleep. I was looking out my window at the neighbors Christmas lights, and this is what happened...
His mother laid him on a bed of hay,
The angels sang in joy,
Did his Father know already,
What lay ahead for His infant boy?
Did His Father know already,
What His Sons life held in store?
To teach, to love, to understand,
To be challenged to His core?
Did His Father know and send Him,
Then watch another man,
Raise Him, hold Him, nurture Him,
Though he could not understand,
The purpose of the little Boy,
Drawn to the priests to teach,
The purpose of this Young Man,
Who stood beyond temptations reach?
Did He know the commitment,
As from the river Christ did rise?
Did He know the great love,
All felt from His strong eyes?
Did His Father feel the gratitude,
Of a mother whose child was raised,
From the deepest sleep of death,
Or from a leper did He feel praised?
Did His Father know and leave Him,
In a garden alone to face,
The sins, the pain, the horror,
Of all the human race?
Did His Father know that evening,
As the angels sang with joy,
The fate that lay before,
His swaddled Baby Boy?
Surely as God He must have known,
So how could He send Him here?
Because of our imperfect needs,
Our Brothers path was clear.
So as we sing with the angels,
To celebrate His baby dear,
We must also kneel down to repent,
And to all beg they hear,
That this Baby came to give a gift,
To deny it we destroy,
The reason, the hope, the purpose,
For which Our Father sent His Boy,
Light your lights for the star,
That told all He had arrived,
See the kings in the Nativity,
Whose gifts helped Him survive,
Lick candy canes, of red and white,
Blood shed and purity,
And celebrate our eternal lives,
With your evergreen tree,
Give gifts to your loved ones,
As your Heavenly Father gave to you,
Celebrate with meaning,
Tell the story that is true,
That our Father and our Brother,
Loved us enough that though they knew,
The future of this swaddled Child,
They gave a life for you.

Happy Christmas all.