When my youngest daughter, Kate, was a senior in high school, she was in an advanced writing class. One of her assignments was to write a poem using iambic pentameter. She was overwhelmed by the assignment and wasn’t clear as to what iambic pentameter meant. They had talked about it in class, but most of you will relate to how clear it was by the time she got home. LOL
I want you to know I’m not a fan of poetry, unless it comes from Mother Goose. I’m a bit ashamed to admit it, and I know that I owe it to myself to read some poetry before I die. : ) My daughter, however, liked it a lot. She really enjoyed Shakespeare. She had read all of his works and all of his sonnets, watched many plays, and acted the part of Hero from “Much Ado about Nothing” in 8th grade. Here is another confession- I have read Romeo and Juliet and seen The Taming of the Shrew. That’s it.
So, it wasn’t a happy circumstance when she came to me and asked for help. I had no idea what iambic pentameter was. But how could I say no to my daughter who needed my support? So, we sat at the computer together and began. We looked up iambic pentameter. We read it. We gave each other a blank stare and then read it again. Now I may not love poetry, but I’m pretty good at figuring out what I read. I began to understand and was able to explain it to her. Then she was off and running.
We talked over possible topics for her poem. Then she chose one, which happened to be her own idea. Way to go, Kate. She told me the story she envisioned her poem telling. It was good, really good. Then she wrote the first line. I can see us pounding out the syllables into our hands and changing words until there were exactly ten syllables per line. We would come up with ordinary words and then check the Thesaurus to find words that were more descriptive, elegant, or fitting for the time period and topic. It was fun. We laughed a lot.
She wrote and rewrote for over 3 hours. I was there the whole time. I made suggestions whenever she was stuck on a word or a thought and asked for help. She seldom used the word I suggested, but it would spark her mind, and then she would come up with the perfect word by herself. She would look at me with an excited smile, raise her hand, and say, “Gimmie five.” I would, at regular intervals, say, “This is good; it’s really good. You’re amazing!”
Be With Me While I Write
When Kate was in her first year of college, she took a creative writing class. One assignment was to create an imaginary author and describe his/her life. She was to present a piece of the imaginary person’s writing and then analyze it. She decided to rewrite the poem she wrote in high school about a sailor’s widow. She was adjusting it to tell the story of a Civil War soldier’s widow.
One day, I peeked in her room to say hi and see what she was doing. “Mom, come in and let me read this to you.” I went in, and she read it to me. Then she asked me to sit down and help her out.
We reminisced about the time we worked on the original poem together; all those great feelings came back. We laughed about the experience and how fun it had been.
I sat on the side of her bed and watched her use the Thesaurus and the dictionary to find words she needed. I saw her look up Civil War information and get a feel for the time period. I didn’t say much. Her poem was coming along great. Eventually, I stood up, patted her back, and left her to her work. She didn’t really need me. She had learned through experience what to do.
This is a marvelous example of being present. What Kate had needed in high school, she wanted to feel again while creating her imaginary author and what they would have written. She wanted me to be present, to feel my support, have some of my focused time, and sense my enthusiasm for what she was doing. These are the things all kids need from time to time.
Kate wrote her poem in high school by herself. She thought she was asking me to help her do it. What she really asked was, be with me, care about me, and learn with me. This is Principle Two from The Five Principles of Power – Be Present.
Kate is raising three children of her own, and she understands not only how to write a poem in iambic pentameter, but she also knows how to be PRESENT. Enjoy Kate’s work from her high school days.
It’s now a few decades old, but still wonderful.
The Widow’s Walk
By Kate Johnson
Upon the widows’ walk forlorn, she stands.
Face gray, indistinct in the morning mist.
Iron railing, cold portent in her hands.
Heartache knocks, upon her cheeks he kissed.
Annals of mariner’s wives keeping pace,
Back and forth, eyes on the horizon.
Lives lost forty leagues below without trace.
Possibility, worry like poison.
Bells peal out, mournfully telling of loss,
Belaying her breath, they tacitly mock.
Mind shrouded, forever bearing the cross,
Endlessly trudging the high widow’s walk.
Hope springs eternal; they shall meet anon
Sighs a chantey to a roseate dawn.
I mentored parents for many years. I enjoyed this work, the friendships I made, and the changes I saw in families. In the early days, I worked with families that were homeschooling. Later, I added parents who educated their children in private and public schools. One of the issues for all parents was how to help children/youth want to learn, enjoy the process, and take responsibility for their learning. No one system insulates parents from this dilemma. I began writing a series of articles titled The Education Adventure. These articles contained real experiences, from real families. Their stories are helpful when working to help children take on the adventure of education.
Christmas at our house was as if the windows of heaven had opened.
Maggie, my granddaughter with cerebral palsy, was supposed to wear a headpiece. That was not going to work at all. She was supposed to say, “We are afraid”. She said it the best she could, as her ability to speak was minimal, and she said it with a huge smile. She couldn’t find it in herself to look afraid. Many small shepherds were wandering about, trying to figure out where they were supposed to be.
These children were in luck. Cindy Walker smiled through the chaos. She gently called the small children back into place. She helped with lines that would never be memorized. She replaced halos, headpieces, and robes, and kept smiling. She didn’t laugh out loud at the silly things the children said and did, even though she wanted to.
weren’t sure they liked their parts, especially saying, “I’m going to have a baby!” The soldier still felt silly. Headpieces were still falling off, belts were missing, halos still itched, no one remembered where they were supposed to stand, many parts were not memorized, and the little shepherd still smiled when saying, “We are afraid.”
The little angel who wanted to say “Point to the star” wouldn’t leave his dad’s side and come on stage until all the other angels left the stage, and the shepherds were on their way in. Then he went and sat by the baby Jesus and made happy boy sounds with his plastic cup! (This was my grandson, Jack, age 3.) As the shepherds, wise men, and angels gathered around the baby Jesus, it was a mob, juggling each other for a space, mostly with their backs to the audience.
This week, I had an experience that brought to mind the importance of letting our kids know, daily, that we see them and that they matter. It brought back many memories of families I have worked with, parents I have mentored, and the huge impact I’ve seen when


In 2012, the week after Christmas, Don and I traveled to Colorado to visit our grandkids. We loved and missed our daughter and her husband, but we went to see the grands! I’m always grateful for the time we took, in those early days, to spend time with them. Ashley, the grand in this story, is now in her mid-twenties and a wonderful hairdresser. They grow so fast, and you can’t reclaim their childhood. Hence, the perilous drive in the winter. : )
them their job is to push the material forward into the feed dog, and keep a straight line. Then I worry about the pedal. That way, they learn to do one thing before trying to do two.
Later, I found Lizzy and Ashley sitting at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the books they brought home from the library. They had originally gone out to ride their scooters, but the books were so compelling that they never made it to the driveway. They were comparing the crystals in each other’s books, chatting away about the shapes, sizes, and colors.
Back in the day, when my grands were small, I did many learning activities with them. I enjoyed it and so did they. As I mentioned earlier this spring, I’m sharing some of those past learning activities with you because you can have as much enjoyment and fun with your children or grands as I did. Sometimes all we need is an idea, and then we can run with it. So here goes!
paper. When they were done and wanted another animal and a different color, we traded papers. Grandpa was very satisfied with the result. This particular range wouldn’t have his usual perfection, but it had memories and was fun to use.