The Story Club

  In the morning before the heat set in, I stopped by Maternity to see if I could be of any help with check-ups or deliveries. Maman Lilliane was working that day and it was pretty slow – there was only one lady in labor at the time. Maman Lilliane is a short and fat lady with a hot temper. She looks and sounds angry most of the time. Although I wished it was one of the other nurses on duty, I am not afraid of her moods so I asked her if I could stay and deliver the baby and she said I could. The woman in Maternity was laboring on the delivery bed with the broken footrest. The other one is empty. Why does she not lay on it? I prepared the baby’s things – knitted sweater, pants, hat and booties, blanket and I checked the betadine jar to make sure there was string to tie the cord. We use thick sutures, or the cuffs of gloves soaked in betadine because cord clamps are scarce. Maman Lilliane seemed to think that the woman was nearing delivery, so she wanted me to put on sterile glov...

    A Christmas Preamble Gingerbread winds and sugar'd snows Are nice; And far better than ice Roasted ham and candied days, In so many ways, you know, So it goes. Savory times and eggnog songs Are sweet; And 'tis pleasant to meet Cinnamon nutmeg and cloves, Merriment, cider in droves,- They belong. Fresh baking pies and justice sweet Are rad; And 'tis well to be glad For the gifts of Life and Time, Cookies, air fresh, cheer sublime, And for meat. Exciting books and movies fun- A blast; Before the season's past, Candles, soft music, scent of pine, A mug of cocoa,- oh, that's fine,  -'Amble done. Old Saint Nick knows I'm no saint, I wasn't before and I still ain't, But he knows the key to Christmastime  Sometimes lies within a rhyme, A mug of cider, a cup of cheer, A siesta from questions like, "Why am I here?" The beauty of snows, Christmas break grows, So it goes. Christmas Rhyme Candy-can...

  While I was home for my brother’s wedding there was a fundraiser event at the international school where I was teaching that year. One of the activities involved pies. The students could buy tickets to put into a bucket with a teacher's name on it, and then on the day of the event one name would be drawn from each bucket, and the student whose name was drawn would get to throw a pie at that teacher. I was glad to miss out, but a couple of the 7th grade girls were disappointed that I was not going to make it.  One day after chapel “Ida” and “Caddie” expressed their deep disappointment that I wouldn’t be there for it. “Miss Barry, do you have to miss it? We really want there to be a bucket with your name on it.” “You can just throw pies at the other teachers, why does it have to be me?” “Yes, but we especially wanted you.” “If you really, really especially want to throw a pie at me … You can just ask me sometime. Maybe I’ll say yes.” Perhaps I expected them to just...