We're Not in Kansas Anymore - a Column by Helen Baldwin

Years ago, I taught kindergarten at a self-contained school for students with orthopedic and other disabilities. My charges were animated, and my assistant was delightful. At the end of my fifth year, my students were all mainstreamed to regular elementary schools, leaving me classless until days before the following year…

My husband, Randy, and I had our first baby while I was teaching students with a variety of difficult diagnoses. Our son, Matthew, was followed three summers later by our daughter, Katie. During both pregnancies, I never worried that they wouldn’t be healthy. Then, before I blinked too many times,…

The revelation that my husband, Randy, and I were becoming newborn parents again called for a comprehensive to-do list. Our other children, Matthew and Katie, were in elementary school. With no intention of needing baby items again, we’d kept nothing. Katie, then 7, ecstatically helped me rectify that dilemma,…

In September 1995, my parents began running the family’s newly acquired lodge on the stunning Blue Ridge Parkway. My husband, Randy, our two children, Matthew and Katie, and I lived about an hour away at the time. I drove up every day to help with lodge business. As the parkway’s…

My husband, Randy, and I moved our family to the North Carolina mountains in the final hours of 1995. Adventures in our old farmhouse commenced immediately. We considered a newsworthy blizzard and the escape of two flying squirrels from the wall into the dining room ample excitement for a long…

I learned my vision needed assistance in fifth grade. Although I unwittingly squinted at the chalkboard, my report cards never indicated a problem. I was a model student because I adored my teacher, Mrs. Chandler. I didn’t want to disappoint my teacher parents, either. They never needed to prod me…

Our baby Jeffrey, who was diagnosed with SMA in July 1997, made the most of his brief earthly stint. I’ve mentioned before that our SMA duty, which lasted mere weeks between Jeffrey’s diagnosis and his death, enabled us to experience prayer and faith in ways that words can’t describe.

It’s somehow already time for Thanksgiving, the designated day for us to give thanks for our blessings. Ideally, we should designate a few more days each year to doing that — like, say, the other 364 — but one day a year is better than none. I try to give…