For Dana & Kerry

Once upon a time...

Year: 1969
Place: Washington state, kindergarten classroom
Teacher: Mrs. Atwell...

Why do I remember my kindergarten teacher's name? I do not know... it might have something to do with the fact that she was the first person to publicly beat me. Just a hunch.

In kindergarten, we didn't have desks, we had tables. Big tables, tables big enough for about 6 kids per table. I even remember the seating arrangement. Chari sat on my right, Leeanna sat on my left, and Dana sat directly across from me. Poor Dana.

For some reason that stumps therapists, when I was a child I had a HUGE issue with people that did not pronounce things correctly, or stuttered. I dont know why, but it was like fingernails on a chalkboard, to me. Just the way it was.

In my kindergarten class, we had a boy who stuttered. I dont mean the occaisional stutter, but a really BAD stutter. His name was Dana and he sat directly across from me, at my table. Every time Mrs. Atwell asked a question, and the kids raised their hands, I cringed to see Dana raise his. I hoped Mrs. Atwell wouldn't call on him, because that meant I had to hear him stutter. Stuttering made my skin crawl, made me want to scream. Like I said, I had issues.

I dont know if it was my plan, or Chari's, or Leeanna's, but between the three of us, we came up with a plan, to prevent all this. The plan? Whenever Dana raised his hand, one of us would kick him under the table. What a glorious plan! What a bunch of brats! Well, it worked. Every time Dana would raise his hand, one of us would, just as planned, kick him under the table, and every time, he'd put his hand down. I dont know how long this went on, days, maybe weeks, but it seemed to be working out pretty good.

One day, Dana had had enough. Mrs. Atwell asked a question and the kids raised their hands. Dana raised his too. First Chari kicked him... and he didn't put his hand down. We were befuddled... he'd never done that before. Then Leeanna kicked him. His hand remained raised. It was my turn to try... and he didn't even flinch! So I tried again... and again, and again. I have no idea how many times I kicked that poor child with my granite-hard saddle shoes, but eventually, Mrs. Atwell called on Dana, and he put his hand down to answer.

I dont remember what the question was, but Dana's answer didn't fit. He began to cry... just a little, and through a very brave little face came: "Mrs. Atwell, I raise my hand alot, and every time I do, Carla kicks me under the table, and it really hurts and I wanted you to know it".

My world came crashing down on me. I was finished! Ruined! I was the gangster of kindergarten and I'd just been fingered! Chari and Leeanna sat on either side of me, looking like little angels... and from all that was within me, I wanted to take them down too! I dont know why Dana didn't rat them out as well. I didn't rat them out though.

Mrs. Atwell looked at me with that look that you only get from a teacher, when you're in huge trouble, and she asked if Dana was telling the truth. I said yes. She asked why. I said "because he stutters and I want to scream every time I hear stuttering". She said "come to the front of the class". It was an experience of deep, devastating public humiliation, as I slowly trudged to the front of the class... like in a dream... running from the monster and he gets closer and closer. I wanted my mommy.

Mrs. Atwell explained to me that what I was doing was very bad, and now I had to get a spanking for it, in FRONT of the whole class. I already knew that's what she was going say, but hearing it, and hearing the other kids all go "ohhhhhh" made it all just that much worse. She got up, went over to her desk and got her yardstick, and swatted my little hiney once. Once was plenty. It was as if a million fire ants just took up residence in my bloomers. She told me to sit back down at my table, but I was unable to sit, so she let me kneel on my chair.

From that day on, I never kicked Dana again. Neither did Chari or Leeanna. Once in a while when Dana was about to raise his hand, he'd stop and look at me and say "I'll let someone else answer". I dont know why that little guy showed me any mercy, but I sure didn't deserve it. I wanted him to raise his hand, and be able to stutter his way through an answer. I deserved to suffer, but he was just a real nice kid, and often let me off the hook.

I went all the way through grade school with Dana, then junior high, but we never really "talked" or became friends. He had his group of friends and I had mine, and that's the way it was.

In junior high, my locker was right next to Kerry's locker. I didnt like Kerry and she didn't like me, and I doubt either one of us knew why. Just one of those things you can't explain. One day... Kerry was mad about something (unrelated to me, I'm sure) and as she opened her locker she swung the door real hard, open, and it flew back onto my hand and smashed it into the locker base. My first reaction? I grabbed her locker door with my intact hand, and slammed it back toward her locker, and smashed HER hand. Neither one of us meant to smash the other's hand, but that's what happened and a lovely shouting match ensued. Pretty soon other kids and teachers showed up and we were both in trouble. I dont remember the punishment but Kerry got a new locker, far down the hall from mine, and we gave each other 12 year old girl dirty looks the rest of the year, when we'd pass in the halls.

I grew up, somewhat :-) and went on with life as people do. Every once in a while I'd think about Dana, and Kerry, and other events of my childhood, and wish I could go back and re-write them.

One day, when I was about 21 years old, I was at the house of my future in-laws. They were Christians, and they had on their fridge, prayer requests and missions bulletins. I was not a Christian at the time, but every time I'd go over there, something about those little scraps of paper caught my attention and I'd read the new ones.

The new one up that day was a prayer request for a missionary couple. They had sent a letter from wherever they were, thanking the church, detailing what was going on where they were, and how thankful they were for the Lord providing such amazing opportunities to share the gospel. I never understood why I was so intrigued by these, but I sure was. I stood there and read the newest one, and at the very bottom was their signatures, and a picture. I nearly fell over when I read "in Christ, Dana & Kerry" and saw the picture underneath. Sure as I was standing there with my mouth hanging open like a kid in Disneyland, it was THE same Dana, and THE same Kerry.

My first thought was... what did they do, meet and share stories of their childhoods and say "wow, you have scars from Carla? ME TOO!" then run off to the wedding chapel? I felt like dirt all over again... that fire ant burn from kindergarten now burned in my heart. What a CREEP I was as a kid!

Over the years, I thought alot about Kerry and Dana, and hoped they'd forgotten all about me. When I was converted to Christ, I thought even more about them, as my fascination with missions work became even stronger. I even tried to locate them a couple of times, but without success.

I wanted to find them and tell them how sorry I am for being such a mean little girl. For whatever reason, the Lord has never allowed me to forget either of them, and I hope somehow, someway, they are able to find out He has redeemed me, and I remember, and I'm sorry.

So this is for Kerry and Dana.

~S~D~G~