One of my all-time favorite children’s books is set in post-World
War II. In the book, A New Coat
for Anna by Harriet Ziefert, the young heroine of the story is a little girl who
survives the horrors of war in Europe with her mother. But along with the rest of their
village, when the troops and tanks leave, they have virtually nothing
left. Only a few trinkets and small
heirlooms remain in their possession.
Anna is growing and needs a new coat, but her mother has no
money with which to purchase one and there are precious few available
anyway. And so, Anna’s mother
begins to barter for supplies and services with the few things of value she has
left. One by one she parts with
the only things of beauty she has in order to meet the very real and pressing need
of her daughter. Although the
process of securing everything for her coat takes considerable time and effort,
Anna and her mother are patient and in the end, her beautiful red wool coat is
more than worth the wait.
I love that book for many reasons. I love the historical significance. I love the stunning illustrations. I love the progression of the process
from need, to raw materials, to services rendered, to finished product -- a
great learning tool for young children.
I love that sheep are featured in it. But I love best the life lessons portrayed that people can
live with less than they think they can, that the human spirit is resilient,
and that the truly good things of life are worth waiting for.
All of the aforementioned analogies are so very fitting for my
second-born, Ryan. Friday was the
fruition of many years of hard work and study for him. Second year students in his dental
school receive their official white coat.
The ceremony is purely symbolic; the iconic white medical coat something
to be tucked away, much like a high school graduation gown. Ryan dismissively claims that it is
solely done so that parents have something to feel good about. In spite of
his protestations, I think it is a big deal for a couple of reasons. It is the
official starter’s gun report that the race to graduation is on. The goal is in sight, the finish line
visible on the horizon. It also signifies
that he is largely finished with the book learning, theoretical portion of his
education, and now has transitioned to clinical work. In other words, he gets to practice on real people.
He told a hilarious story of having practiced giving oral
injections for the first time the day before we arrived. Who do they choose to perform this
nerve-racking rite on? Well, each
other of course! He said it went
(mostly) well, although one poor girl did suffer a monstrously swollen cheek
(poor dear). But the funny part
came afterward when they all decided to grab a bite to eat while still numb. It must have been quite a sight to see
a table full of young adults in scrubs with slurred speech and drool coming out
of the corners of their mouths.
They would look at one another and say things like, “did I finith my
fry? Do I sthill hath food in my
mouth? I can’th thell…” Dental
students also double as lab rats.
I think that should be taken into consideration when charging students
sixty grand a year. But those are probably
just the mental ramblings of a parent worried about loan repayment.
His journey to that moment of donning his tailored coat
really began about his freshman year of high school. Inspired by his Uncle Jason, also a dentist, he began making
noises to his dad and I about wanting to pursue it himself. We encouraged his thinking. He was a good student and seemed to
have an innate affinity for comprehending text and difficult material. We thought he possessed the right stuff
to pursue such an arduous path.
But thinking something is doable and seeing it fleshed out
from skeletal beginnings to meaty form are two very different things. Grades must be maintained, application
components met, scholarships sought, acceptance to an undergrad program
accomplished, and then of course, the intimidating medical school interviews. Medical student candidates must be
invited by each school to be interviewed at the sole expense of the student. Once the interview is complete, the
student must then wait for weeks or months before finding out if they have been
accepted by that school’s program.
It is a long and sometimes stressful process spread out over many years. Only those that have traveled its path
fully understand these words. I
salute each one who has gone there before for their hard work and persistence.
I think I am most proud of Ryan’s tenacity to see the
process to its logical end. You
may be dying to point out to me right now that he has two years of schooling
left before he has earned to his doctoral title. Yes, I know.
And anything can happen between now and then. Yeah, I get it.
I think about those things as well. I merely wish to celebrate his work to this particular
point. And I will add without
blushing or apology, if you doubt his ability to see the process through to its
conclusion, then you don’t know Ryan.
He is stubbornly tenacious.
The End.
Part A of this post is to celebrate Ryan. Part B’s purpose is to pay forward my
gratitude to a host of extraordinary people.
When my boys were small, we would stand on the banks of the
Lamoille River in Vermont and skip flat stones across the water, a simple
activity that my tiny sons never tired of. The bright sun would create diamonds in the ripples of the
concentric circles that grew and then became part of the current that never
ended.
There have been people in Ryan’s life that are forever a
part of his life’s current. Some
sent tiny stones skimming across the water, others mighty boulders whose splash
was momentous. But all created a
disturbance that changed the flow of his waters and altered his life forever.
As I sat watching my son officially become a dental
clinician, I was acutely aware that there are not a few people that shared the
moment with us and should rightfully be acknowledged. I will mention a few now. I apologize in advance for any errors or omissions on my
part.
Thank you to his extended family members who have cheered
and encouraged him from the start.
I am so eternally grateful for a big, loving family. Thank you to his church family members
through the years that have loved him like he was their own, and have prayed
for him faithfully. Thank you to
those special teachers that have taken an interest in him and prodded him to
aim high. It spurs me to do the
same for my students. Thank you to
a very special lady whose surprise graduation scholarship helped with college
expenses. Thanks to all in his
orbit who played a role in helping him become a confident adult and intelligent
student.
I am proud of him, yes. Of course I am.
But I am also humbly aware that there are countless people who have
touched his life in their own unique way and made him a better person. My inexpressible gratitude goes to each
one.
I must also thank the dental school for a lovely ceremony
and reception. Thanks to the
twenty-six family members that took time out their schedules and drove the
miles to cheer on my boy. Thanks
to Denver for having sixty-degree weather just for me. Thanks to Ryan for spending an entire
weekend with the “rents.”
And thanks to each one of you who have watched this child from
his first moments of life or have met him somewhere along the way. You have played a role in helping
him become who he is. The stone
you tossed into his river created an indelible ripple that will never be
forgotten.
There have been a few bumps and bruises along the way, mind
you. You think I think he’s
perfect. He’s not. Like the rest of us, he’s made a few questionable
choices here and there. But this
is where his story intersects with the fictitious war survivor, Anna. Sometimes life is hard and leaves you
with few good options. The heroic
among us do not expend precious energy on pointless regret or self-pity. They look instead to the options yet before
them and proceed forward from that point.
They eventually become the leaders among us.
Today I salute a kid from North Dakota who was born with
irrepressible mischievousness and a quick mind. I am acutely aware of the many miles ahead of him. For today, I joyfully celebrate this
milestone alone.
Anna’s mother knew a few timeless truths. Material things are transitory. Sacrifice in the name of the things that
matter most is no sacrifice at all.
Where there is hope, tomorrow will always be better.
I think Ryan knows these things too. His journey is changing and molding him
into his future self. I am on the
bank of his river watching it happen.
I see positive signs that he is gaining that most valuable of all
emotional treasures – perspective.
There is nothing in life’s tempestuous waters that cannot be faced
bravely if one possesses that rare commodity. His river is widening.
I wholeheartedly believe that he will do good things with his life and
the opportunities he has been given.
The truly good things in life are indeed worth waiting for…
