Stylin' T's

For a fun, easy way to support Haitian Families First -- order one of these crisp, white, happenin' T-shirts!  Net profits go to Haitian Families First, and you'll raise awareness for HFF wherever you wear it, not to mention lookin' pretty cool, too!  Hoops for Haiti w/ bball graphic on front, and the HFF logo with hopeful hands is the 3-color graphic on back.

If you live in the Decatur, IL area, just send a quick note to "Sherry Cluver; MFHS; PO Box 738; Maroa, IL 61756" indicating quantity and sizes (youth small through adult XXL) along with your name and phone number (so we can reach you when it's t-shirt pick-up time) and payment ($15 per shirt) made payable to "MFHS Boys' Basketball."  (At the conclusion of all shirt sales, my husband's ball program will write one check to Haitian Families First.)

A Catholic Christmas in Central Illinois

What looks more like Christmas time than a young girl in her Sunday best, covered with an additional wrap of heavenly white (extra bed sheet), her head topped with a golden, tinsel halo, and a pair of poster board angel wings?  Or shepherds (and in 2011, also shepherdesses) with their belted tunics and over sized crooks for corralling their flock?  "Little Gray Donkey" followed by "Silent Night" and other classic selections both sacred and secular.

Anna, Bay, and Jameson sang their hearts out while Hunter, not so much the performer, spectated from the pew with Mom and Dad.  We met back in the parish hall for a festive gathering and nourishment (cookies, sandwiches, hot drinks) put together by the ladies of the Altar and Rosary Society.  Perched upon the cold, metal, folding chairs, sharing time with community members young and old, we couldn't have felt warmer.

To Light . . .

Mario Batali jarred Tomato Basil pasta sauce -- ingredients:  "Plum Tomatoes, Fresh Red Onions, Fresh Carrots, Extra Virgin Olive Oil, Fresh Basil, Fresh Garlic, Sea Salt."  Period.  Really.  Buy a jar, microwave in casserole dish while 50-50 whole grain penne boils.  Mealtime!  No preservatives, pastes, or artificials.  Um, and I found it at Wal-mart.  Seriously!

Indian and Pakistani snacks at the corner gas station, and three kids (American and Haitian) sampling them (still waitin' for the day that Bay is less timid of "new").

A second self-styled hairdo by oldest daughter -- this time the ENTIRE un-do, wash, condition, and style done on her own.  And she's got some imaginative 'dos -- good for her for so many reasons!

My Dad's humor  .  .  .  Explaining the holiday of Thanksgiving to Jameson a few weeks back, "It's when we give thanks for everything we have and eat all of it in one day."

Salt and pepper popcorn.

Stuffing!  I could live contentedly the whole of Thanksgiving on stuffing alone.

"Caramel Brulee" sprinkles that, upon request, can be strewn atop the whipped cream of any latte (like, um, decaf Cinnamon Dolce).  Love them seasonal sugar crystals!

A 3rd grader who typed an original story on the computer at school today while I worked in my classroom, and she knows what "genre" means  .  .  .  came home and created "illustrations" for her tale, and set up a "writer's binder" organized into sections for "typed" and "not yet typed" stories.

A 6th grader who asked "What color is a basketball?" as she sat down to paint  .  .  .  showing thoughtfulness for coaching daddy.

Feta and spinach pierogies!

The "new" Karate Kid movie -- "Being still and doing nothing are two very different things."

Christmas greens galore, trees, ribbons, stockings, candles, soft sofa blankets -- all in place for the cozy season!

The three youngest enjoying their kids' tree in the living room -- trimming (by all four) and then playing "I spy" over the ornaments.

Humungoid dinner rolls from Covington, Indiana's "The Beef House" -- couriered to us by a traveling friend -- carbo coma!

Hot, spiced cider.

The Muppets Christmas w/ John Denver music CD.

That fresh baklava, after frozen, thaws perfectly -- scrumdillyicious!

Pictures from Bay's teacher from the Veterans' Day assembly  .  .  . My LITTLE Bay  .  .  .

 

A Legit, Smart, Dignified Hand Up -- Haitian Families First!

Stolen from the "Haitian Families First" website:

"  .  .  .  families still overcoming the devastation of their country to find employment, supply their loved ones’ most basic needs, and provide for their children’s educations  .  .  . 

Once, a woman named Junia faced this devastating reality. Junia was raising two daughters on her own after leaving their father, who was abusive to her. A cook at one of Haiti’s few beach resorts, Junia was laid off one day when the company unexpectedly downsized. With no one to help her, she thought she would have to place one of her daughters in an orphanage while she looked for work to support her other daughter. She thought she had no other choice.

But thankfully, Jamie and Ali thought differently, and offered Junia a job working for their organization. Junia not only got to keep both daughters with her, she also got to fulfill a life-long dream: to work with children. Jamie and Ali also helped Junia raise the money she needed to send her daughters to school, something many women like Junia cannot afford to do.

Although she's a busy, working single mother, Junia recently took into her care another child, Jeremie, whose mother had died giving birth to him and whose father is unknown. Jeremie needed very special care—he weighed less than 2 pounds at birth—and Junia gave it to him. She plans to adopt Jeremie because, as she told Jamie and Ali, someone helped her, and now it’s her turn." 

(http://www.haitianorphanrescue.org/our_story.html)

Here's MY two cents, whether it's worth a hill of beans  .  .  . :
Damn, they're good!  You see, a lot of children can and should stay right where they are -- with their birth families who want to raise and parent them.  Too often families lose one another due to the singular factor of poverty.  There are also some children who do actually need a chance to have a family through adoption; they legitimately need a forever family, and the causes can be any one or several of many.  This is why a small (hands-on) operation like Jamie and Ali's Haitian Families First (HFF) makes the best sense -- they get to know personally the people to whom they extend a hand.  A not-for-profit, low-overhead organization (the McMutries don't even earn a salary) is able to focus without distraction on their aim of individualized and appropriate service with dignity.

Did it stop anyone else in their tracks to read the last line of the HFF website excerpt above?  "She plans to adopt Jeremie  .  .  . "  SHE plans to!  How often do we, service-minded folks, offer to fulfill the best hopes of a parent who placed their child for adoption by joining our families and stepping in as the child's new, forever family?  Or donate money to the orphanage that houses the kids until they move to their destinations overseas?  After we've been fortunate enough to be taught, and humble enough to learn that the numbers of children left to orphanages could be reduced through serious family preservation efforts, we may channel our resources in that direction.  How astounding it is, then, to see HFF empower a step beyond even that -- a hand-up to a fellow human who now stands so firmly on her own two feet that she is already paying it forward byhelping a tiny Haitian boy have his own new family within his native homeland, and a healthy future.  Her choice.  Her power.  Her dignity.

THIS is why I am so passionate about supporting the work of Jamie and Ali McMutrie.

Big Times for the Cluver Girls

Well, Wee Cluver Girl donned some red, white, and blue for the 11-11-11 Veterans' Day assembly at school, and despite being a bundle of nerves, performed nicely her reading part at the microphone. 

Older Sis' took to the stage in her choral part (in the Mission Band) in "Guys & Dolls Jr." for her middle school (hence the plain white blouse and black slacks -- h/t Rem & Karen), and two hours before heading out from home for the final performance, she got an uber, ginormous, shocking, can't-believe-it surprise visit from her dear Pittsburgh friend, Grace!

The Tjelmeland family was traveling from St. Louis back to Pittsburgh, and Mama Kay had prearranged with me for this delightful stop-by for the girls.  They hugged, and giggled, and talked, and hugged.  Gotta love girlfriends!  Chad and I had the chance to get to know Grace and her family and it was a really nice, relaxed two hours of interesting conversation.  Delightful!  We look forward to seeing them again when we make our way out east.

Bay and I attended the Friday night performance of Anna's play with my parents, Pap and Grandma Finch, where we encountered a family friend who is also a parent of one of my students, has a daughter in Anna's class (in the play), and younger children at the gradeschool.  She stopped to expound excitedly about Baylor's great job reading confidently, clearly, and proudly earlier in the day at the assembly;  Bay grinned and blushed excitedly.  Earlier that night, during our pre-play dinner at Panera, we ran into a couple of my parents' friends from Freeport who, by happenstance, were in this neck of the woods 2 1/2 hours from their home.  Sometimes I take better notice and pause to appreciate the people around me, around us, and it's comforting.  It grounds me, supports me, lifts me up.

Chad and the boys enjoyed the play Saturday night with Pap and Grandma Cluver, and so, for today's final performance, we did the drop-of, pick-up approach.  Reappearing at the school at the time of the final bow, I made myself available to help with tear-down and/or clean-up before leaving for home, and while I did what I was able, so many parents with power tools and know-how really make quick business of the real work.  I ran into the parents of several of the kids' friends and quite a few of my students, spent some time, in particular talking with the father and then the mother of one of Baylor's dearest gal pals.  (They have older children, also, one of whom was in the MS production.)  We smiled and shook our heads slowly as we appreciated how alike are our younger girls -- so full of energy and creativity; how they delight in each other's company.  Connections.  All of these connections that in the "to do's" of daily life I have taken not enough time to relish.

Friends from my old stomping grounds, friends in the community into which we've settled as adults, and new friends from my birthplace of Pittsburgh.  Reassuring.  Reminding.  Exploring.  Two girls at microphones -- stepping up and standing tall.  Roots and wings for the Cluver girls.  All three of us.

Lights

Twenty-ish "burning bushes" all around the front porch are now their autumnal, vibrant red.

The sun is out!

A daughter moisturized, combed, and styled her own hair (2+hours of work) for the first time -- with (wait for IT...) positive, helper-attitude!  (ALL the angels are singing a chorus of Amen AND Allelujia on this one.  Way seriously epic proportions of hooray.)

Have I ever mentioned that I like decaf coffee? 

A son is reading aloud, alone, and with fluency and inflection "Green Eggs and Ham."  Big jump in reading skills and confidence!  (BIG smile -- from us both.)

When the big $19.99 Target investment in a daughter's wardrobe

continues  to be as big a hit once home as it was at the store. 

(And is paired happily with last year's leggings and the $7 clearance boots.)

The $5 mini-pillow-pet.  Yes, Target.  Daughter had just enough allowance saved up for "Mango."



Strangely enough, one of life's delights (to me) is evidence that "Baylor's been here."

Notice the brand-new, unsharpened condition of the pencil -- certainly so as to assure that LilyAnn doesn't make any stray marks on the beloved coloring page of Jesse.

Rainbow princess, I believe in distress. Clone Trooper, scratching his knee? 

Pumpkin Princess all "Oh, no, you dinn't." 

Ninja revival ('stume of a few years back) with throwing star injury to the right orb.

Some of the boys' "Adoption Day" gifts. 

Adoption Day!

Nutella and fruit-filled croissants and homemade lattes to start our day.

Beatha Anna Samedy Cluver and Jameson Edward Mesilas Cluver

While Anna does, indeed, prefer to go by her new, legal middle name, we preserved Beatha as her first name.  Anna and Edward honor multiple members of our extended families, along many branches of our clans.  Their previous Haitian surnames are kept, but now, as second middle names.

The 11:00 appointment flowed smoothly, quickly, and with thoroughness.  I'll have to bum some clearer shots from one of the grandparents in attendance, as my camera didn't function so well

(as you can see above).  (Did I mention I have really got to shop for a new camera?)

We followed up with a 12 o'clock lunch at Avanti's, and then desserts at my sister's.  

A lovely day.  Thank you, family!

And as all homework in our possession had already been completed by the day prior, the boys were free to play once back home; they took advantage of the late-season pampass grass in the far corner of the yard for creating a secret fort, complete with signs, boundary stakes, and checkers.

And as we will be booked solid this coming weekend, tonight was the only time available for pumpkin preparations.  This is Hunter's "ghost."

The artist sketches the features for her jack-o-lantern,

which once carved with help from Dad is then also painted by Anna;

pink polka dots, of course!

Jameson going all-in for the seed-scooping.

A-glow!  According to Jameson this is his first carved-and-lit pumpkin experience.

It was a monumental day, and yet, a day with children wherein life goes on even without fanfare.  Checkers, and pumpkins, and a dress with spaghetti stains to wash.  Showers done and back packs ready.  Immigration forms to process and over a year of time to wait before citizenship is within reach. 

At the conclusion of the hearing, as the judge prepared to make his official decision, his words to Chad and I did, however, give me pause.  We were finished answering questions confirming our occupations, the date on which the kids came into our care, and other technicalities, and to the two of us he said beautiful things, validating, sincere, meaningful compliments and congratulations.  That is when my lip quivered.  Today is a step in what has been and what will continue to be a lengthy, complicated, unpredictable process.  A step, nonetheless, worthy of pause and reflection. 

Last night we were going over the plans for the day, and Jameson was curious about what the judge would look like, and in that musing he said he likes "Obama." Then, I became curious and confused, and I told him that I doubted the President of the United States would be in our courtroom.  He corrected me, "No, I like him because he said I could get on the plane in Haiti and come here."

And with that, the merry-go-round stopped, and I remembered.  I remembered to remember.  The sights and sounds of death feeding live to CNN, emails and phone lines ablaze grasping desperately at loose straws to try to make ourselves of use to keep the kids at the orphanage alive and to get them evacuated to safety in the United States.  I wouldn't have a beaming Tiger or artistic Anna enriching our lives, sleeping beneath our roof, if it wasn't for the incredible, collective effort of diverse persons doing their best for children, and some luck, and God's grace.    I feel an overwhelming gratitude to so many people.  It began with two women on the ground in Haiti who started the chain, and would not leave until all of the children were allowed to leave with them.  Surrounded by death, they gambled for life, and our children won.

Thank you, Jamie and Ali McMutrie.

The White House.  The Haitian judge and US Embassy in Port-au-Prince. 

PA Governor Ed Rendell.  The City of Pittsburgh.

Our family, friends, and the new family-friends we've made along this journey.

And to all those who've made possible the kids' transition to our home in Illinois.

I'll close late this eve with Hunter's recent poem for English class:

Fun

Amazing

Master piece

Is wonderful

Living good

Your closest thing

Oh,

  .  .  .  and fresh bak-la-va-ahhhhhh!  A most fabulous guest speaker returned to my Geography classes for the 5th year running (thank you!) to share his Greek heritage with the freshmen  .  .  .  In addition to awesome stories about Greek culture and his fascinating up-bringing, motivational talk to the kids about dreams, goals, and staying out of trouble, this gentleman also treats us to my favorite Greek dessert.  His visits are always a huge hit, and my kids at home delight in his extra generosity of sending with me the remaining pastries. 

And it's Friday.  Breathe  .  .  .

(What would I do without ellipsis?)

Sashay . . . Sashay, Sashay, Sashay!

New brown fashion boots and new black fashion boots for one girl.  New black dress shoes and black fashion boots for the other.  I stuck to the list, and to the budget.  You should have seen the girls pop their steps and cock their shoulders as they walked the aisles to test the potential purchases -- a bit of extra bounce and sass when they found just the right pairs.  Exhausted mama admits the energy expenditure was well worth it.  Me tired.  We happy.

Love Thy Neighbor

I conjured this little ditty spring of '09 when we lost our dear neighbor, Virginia; every fall I am pulled strongly to think of her  .  .  .

Golden flakes waved through sun and breeze

From darkest branches of sugar maple

All around and above

The neighborhood glowed

A warmth.

On the first early morn

Working on our new, old home

A visitor arrives

With square hot glass

Bubbling with baked grain and cinnamon.

In a dark, frosty eve

We return the walk from

Our yard to hers,

And she welcomes us

Into heat of her house.

We sit upon sofa

Quiet and polite.

Virginia hears much, sees all,

Remembers everything.

She chats and compliments,

Embracing. 

Welcoming.

Calm.

After new leaves sprout

And sprinklers are set,

We perch upon lawn chairs

On the sizzle of sidewalk

Viewing the annual parade.

She summons the kids for candy

With smiles.

Always with smiles.

Before ants attach to wrappers sweet,

Treats are plucked from grass.

Return of the deep, yellowish-orange

Hovering in cool skies.

Geese fly,

And children climb the jungle gym,

Insulated by jackets and caps.

We return to this very spot

Of Autumn.

And I smell cinnamon

From memory

With eyes closed I pause.

Followed by ice and snow crystal.

And then another fresh spring

With lilacs and dogwoods.

Season after season

After season.

Degrees, wet, leaves, and blooms

Roll out, and on, and over.

Keep cuddled and bundled

then free to the sun.

But this vernal period she's left us,

And the breeze is cold.

She waited for our back lights to glow

To reassure of our presence,

But we haven't finished the new, back room,

Yet.

The neighborly dinners

And Ruehl Street teas

I'd envisioned clank loudly

As unfinished deeds.

If only I could have the grace of Virginia.

With a breath I look up,

Because she is home.



(The epitome of loveliness, dignity, and gentleness, Virginia was, indeed, a most fabulous neighbor, woman, and friend.  We miss her.)