This Sunday is the day! We’ll be crafting our SoulBooks by cutting, gluing, sharing stories, and smiling. All the while, we’ll be remembering what’s most important to us.
Here’s what Diane, Ruth, and I worked up for our first day:
- Introductions and setting an intention for ourselves
- Share exerpts from Braving the Wilderness by Brene Brown
- View video by Melody Ross in book construction
- Cutting, taping, and constructing our books
- Closure and home assignment: gathering the pieces that matter
Here are the details. All are welcome, and we’d love to have you join us.
I’m sure the scene was hilarious. I nodded when Rachel came running down the bleachers to ask if I were okay. And then everyone had a good laugh. I tried to smile because crying would make it so much worse and then, thank God, Toonis made them play so they quit laughing.
My kneecap would have a good-sized bruise. I sat there for a minute, wishing I’d just played the stupid song while my finger started to throb and already the joint had swollen to twice its size.
Worse than that, my trumpet was straight up wrecked. The round edges of the bell crumpled inwards, the whole exterior looked like a two year old had smashed it with a hammer, and the mouthpiece was so badly jammed I could not pry it loose. If I couldn’t get the thing fixed, I couldn’t compete in the Solo and Ensemble Contest and not much was going to happen for me in the way of college scholarships.
“You okay, Hannah?” Rachel sat down beside me the best she could, crammed between the end of the bleacher and the stair that led back up to where the band blasted the god-awful Louie Louie.
Nodding, I looked at Rachel for a minute, then down at my throbbing finger. “Rachel?”
“Yeah,” she said.
“I’m sorry I left you and went with Ally.”
“I know.” She took a long breath and watched the football players slam each other. I struggled to hear what she said next over the booming drums and the crowd who had gone back to chitchatting as soon as the parents near me knew I was okay. “But I’m probably not going to do drama with you. I can’t see myself getting ditched all the time.”
I nodded. That made good sense to me. A smart girl would walk away from someone who hurt her all the time. Rachel was a smart girl.
She helped me get all the way up and find my trumpet before leaving to sit with Mariah again.
When he asked, I told Toonis I’d call my mom to come get me. I probably needed a doctor for the finger.
After the phone call, for some reason, I decided to walk back over to Michael again. I moved my feet, looking down at my Nikes with their neon bright colors and thought of Rachel’s hats again. They weren’t all that bad, honestly.
Michael sat with his friends between songs now. I prayed Louie Louie was done for the night but honestly didn’t have much hope of that.
“Hey,” he said when he noticed me. “You came back.”
Something smartass about Captain Obvious popped up in my head. Something I would have said to Ally and then laughed with her right in front of him. Maybe it wasn’t so bad she wasn’t around now.
“Yeah. I thought I’d show you what just happened to my Stradivarius.”
“Oh, my God!” he said reaching out to touch the mangled mouthpiece.
I looked up at him and felt the pull toward him get stronger. He was the first one to see my tragedy for what it was. Mom had said she was on her way. She was more worried about my silly finger than my wrecked instrument. But I knew I might not be able to repair it.
Of course, Michael didn’t know about my pitiful money situation. But he did get how much it hurt to damage an instrument you loved. I could tell from his face.
“You going to be able to get it fixed?” He had put his arm loosely over one of my shoulders with his fingers barely touching the space between my shoulder blades. I knew he was making a move. I didn’t mind.
I shrugged. And then I saw Ally across the field staring in our direction. It was tough to make out her face, but I was pretty sure she was grinning as she waved those blue and white tuffs of pompoms in beat with our drums on the other side.
“Well, I probably better go. My mom’s on her way to pick me up.”
He looked off toward Ally and then back down at me.
“Would it be letting her win if you gave me your number?”
“Maybe,” I said. I slid my finger along the dents in my trumpet wishing once more I hadn’t dropped it. Wishing I could have met the guy standing next to me without being stupid and falling for Ally’s trick.
“Then I’ll give you mine,” he said. “You should get away from her and come out with me some time.”
“Yeah. Maybe I’ll give you a call,” I said. And I did think about it as I walked away with his number saved in my phone.