videos of unoriginal stories I tell alot

Chapter 4 Mrs. Hippie

It was nearly the close of a beautiful day. It has been said that time flies when you're having fun, but what about the time when you are waiting to have fun? No one really mentions it, Except for a movie once about the life of C.S. Lewis where they explained the phenomenon. It is all one and the same. The waiting is part of the fun, and in this case the slower part. It seemed that every pair of eyes watched the timepiece on the wall closely, one more minute passed!

Out of the silence, Honey asked a question. "What do you prefer to be called, Miss H.?" She asked after politely raising her hand and waiting to be called upon. Her teacher thought for a moment then looking at the clock announced, "It as good a time as any for this tale. Storytime!" And as she finished the sentance children surrounded her ready to listen, so, she began, "When I was a young girl, attending classes very much like this one. We sat in alphabetical order. Often, I was assigned as a partener to a Frank *H*ippie. As I grew up, my appreciation for this fellow deepened, until one day last semester, we got married, and I became Mrs. Hippie. It is difficult as a school teacher to change your name and because the two names Miss Hissippie and Mrs. Hippie sounded so similar, I decided for your sakes not to change it, yet. However, now that you mention it, I would rather prefer being called Mrs. Hippie if you all do not mind."

Just as she finished her tale, with several interesting interjections, the bell rang and the doors almost instantly flew open letting the intoxicating scent of springtime into the building. In an orderly manner the children dismissed themselves and ran toward the beconing sunshine!

Chapter 3 Honey

Again, it was Sunday for the gang living in Hidden Valley, a town so close knit that everyone knew everyone and they all attended the same church. So, seeing the third grade teacher on the fourth pew was not a big deal. What was a big deal was that she originally sat in the third pew not knowing that it was always used by a rather large family. Whispers filled the tiny chapel and word spread like melting butter scoots acoss a warm frying pan that "Miss Hissippie had sat in the dew pew".

She heard without being told that she had mistakingly taken the wrong seat and so she moved. The Dew family always sat in the third pew. Their third child was a girl named Honey. Honey Dew was unlike her siblings in that she was quite out spoken. Often, Miss H. had placed her in the corner but, she became adapt at passing notes.

The Church was a place that usually had an air of respectful quietude. To the children, including Honey, it was plainly boring and silent. Mrs. Dew carried an arsenal of activities to maintain the facade of reverant observance. This day was fortunate in that the wee ones chose to quietly sit and color mostly books with religious pictures, but this backfired when their mother gathered the books and whispered that it was time to say a prayer.

The youngest children did not really pray, but Honey and the older two were expected to set the right example. But, Honey wasn't feeling the desire to comply, so her mother leaned over and whispered "at least think about Jesus." But, she still kept coloring her Stawbery Shortcake Book and blurted loudly in reply, "I am thinking of Jesus. Where do you think the Sunshine comes from to grow Strawberies?"
"Honey." Her mother spoke in hushed tones "I believe you, but think of the example."
This she said spreading out her hands in a gesture that included all siblings.

And from that tiny little happening, Honey's life was changed. From that point onward she was very cautious to always set the right kind of example, probably to extreme. Later that evening, at home, Honey asked a strange question.

"Mom? Why do we call our teacher Miss Hissippie?" She asked out of genuine concern to be proper and she had decided that it didn't seem proper.
Her mother answered, "That is something you should ask her. It is quite good of you to find out what she prefers and use that, it will set a good example for the rest of your class." That was exactly the right thing to say at the right time.

And, so we learn that a mother can effect an entire class and, in a way, effect an entire world without any of her childen ever even being a president. God truly works in mysterious ways.

Part of Chapter 2 - Recess

Finally, it was time for recess. That day Chuckie just couldn't get into playing games with all of the other kids because of his shiny red nose, no, because he was befuddled by a meaning. It was likely misunderstood, but still we must see what Miss. H. says.

Chuckie approached his teacher who was eating an apple while watching a group of idiots see if it was cold enough for their tongues to stick to a pole yet. "Hiya, Miss. Hississippie!" Chuckie exclaimed disturbing the reflective waters that she was sinking into. Somewhat startled she responded, "Hi Charles, how are you?"
He smiled and nodded while he answered, "Doing fine. You can see my breath, huh?
"Yes, I can. Do you understand the science of it?"
"Of course, I do. But, I have another question for you."
"Ask away. I've been preparing answers all of my life for just such an occasion."
"Oh, goodie!" then Chuck began, "You know how that girl came into our class yesterday and said she was Timothy's Brother?"
"Yes, I recall that we all tried not to laugh. But, it was funny."
"Well, Is that alot like recess?"
"You mean using the proper external gestures, as dictated by situation?"
"Ummm... Huh?"
"It can be like recess in our classroom if we let ourselves behave in a way that we do when we are outside."
"No. I meant like brothers and sisters. You said something about it being inappropriate something or other. The relationship is called recess."
"Oh! I see." Rather embarassed at the misunderstanding, coupled with the akwardness of the topic, she choked on a piece of apple. Then, she cleared her throat and explained that it wasn't really like that at all. "The word you are thinking of is not Recess it is Incest." Her mind threw up a road block sign that told her such a topic was inappropriate at any situation. Still, it was asked and was a true teaching moment, the sort of thing she was dedicated to...

Sometimes, things that seemed inappropriate were merely misunderstood themselves. Maybe this could be the moral of her explination/definition. There was no avoiding it though, she was being forced to navigate waters for which she was not prepared.

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Chapter 1 of Miss Hissippie

She was so unpresidently happy, and unaware of anything in the world that seemed less than cheerful. She paused at a

stoplight whistling whilst she waited for the go signal. There, not but a few feet from her, so close that were it not for

the protection of the blue rusted vehicle doors, they would be too close than typically allowed between strangers. But,

this stranger was not at all cheerful. She was disgusted that she was being forced to take her daughter to school when the

bus had stopped as it did every single day in front of their house. Today was different. Gwendolyn was unable to get on the

bus due to a strange dilemma her teacher had caused the day before.
The light changed and they sped on, not literaly, to school. Gwendolyn's teacher was walking down the hall faaster

than her pupil. Click, click, click, click. Her heels made a familiar echo down the barren corridor leading to the

classroom door. She arrived first and walked into a filled classroom and sat at her teacher's desk and began role call.

"Gwendolyn?" "here." Just barely in time today, but the teacher didn't notice or care. Her mind was still unloading the

earlier events of her careless husband and his countless selfish escapades, she wondered why she endured it. After the roll call

was over she sighed then began speaking, " Remember yesterday when we talked about our destinations and how they really do

not matter as much as who we choose to go with?" Gwendolyn politely raised her hand. "Yes, dear." "well, this morning I

thought alot about it and I didn't care that we were just going to school again and not somewhere like chuck E Cheese. As

long as I was in control of who I went with." Gwen explained.
"Very estute of you."
"So, I tried to decide who I wanted to take on the ride with me, and I could never decide."
"But, you still ended up here, darling."
"Mom, had to bring me. I am natually with mom, not a choice I made, though."
"I think you did, You see, in not making a choice that IS the choice we made."
"oh. Well, I still do not know who I want to take with me going anywhere."
And so our story unfolds as a litlle girl ponders over who she would pick to get on the bus with her. Meanwhile, Chuckie,

threw up his hands and cried " Oh, come on! It doesn't matter who you chose as long as you get on the bus!"
Charles had a point, not many children consider it their responsibility to decide who can be taken on their journey to

school. So, sort of by proxy, the teacher got on her high horse once again, as teachers like to do, preaching to the

proverbial choir."In our lives we make millions of choices. What time to wake up, What to eat for lunch, or what sort of

mood we will be in. Being aware of the choices we make is a good thing. Sooner or later we will see the destination isn't

the goal but the journey or the time we spent waiting. And so, I am glad that Gwendolyn taught us this lesson today, if our

happiness is so good of a thing to persue, then the choice of who we go with is very important, and not one of those things that we

just leave up to chance."