Sorry about that title. I type much better with my mittens off!
Yes--mittens--the A/C is (knock on wood) fixed and it is finally below 80 degrees on the Ark for the first time in 6 days!
Now, I believe I promised you a story...
Way back in the Winter, we were struggling with a high school decision for The Boy. We had hemmed and hawed about every piece of minutiae that was available. But when we finally came to a decision, we suddenly had peace about it. We knew that it was the right decision for us.
Actually, let me take you back even further. Over a year ago, we were discerning whether or not we would begin homeschooling. It became clear to us that homeschool was an appropriate choice for our family, but that it would not include The Boy, who only had one year of school left before beginning high school. The decision was made to allow him to finish 8th grade at the parish school where he was doing very well and had formed many good, solid friendships.
Back to earlier this year.
We had made our high school decision and now registration paperwork to rival an adoption dossier began pouring in to the Ark. We sorted through the papers. We circular-filed the unnecessary ones and began putting pen to paper on the others.
As spring approached, there was one last paper to complete. The deadline for the form was May 1st. After more hemming and hawing, a call down to "the principal's office" to discuss said form prompted us to go ahead and complete it. So, complete it we did.
Fast forward to the end of May. Graduation week. The Captain and I (thanks to the kindness of my neighbor who came to stay with the rest of the arklings) accompanied The Boy to the 8th grade awards dinner. Sitting front and center, we were so proud of him as he accepted award after award for his academic achievements, his character and his accomplishments on the sports field.
But none of those awards could have prepared me for what was about to happen. As we sat, directly in front of the stage (yes, the stage was in the gym where the dinner was held---isn't the cafetorium standard Catholic school fare?), we listened as the principal introduced a woman who was there to present one, last special award.
It seems that her father, who has since passed on, was a physician in our area who had done very well for himself. In addition to raising 5 children (who from her description had also gone on to do great things), he was a successful surgeon and a strong supporter of the community and parish at large. She wound her way around his life's story and shared the sacrifice---because "every parent sacrifices in some way to give his or her children a Catholic education" she said---their family had made to send all 5 children through the parish school and then on to the diocesan Catholic high school.
Because her father knew how important this was to him and he knew the sacrifices involved, he wanted to pay his success forward in the hopes that it would help someone else.
Someone who had worked hard and academically achieved in grade school.
Someone whose character was one that looked outside him or herself to help others.
Someone who had a love for Science and excelled in that area.
Someone who had attended the same exact parish grade school his children had attended.
And someone who would be a Freshman next year at the same diocesan high school he sent his children to many years ago.
That someone, his daughter announced, would be honored with a full, four-year high school scholarship.
And that someone was The Boy.
After all that hemming and hawing about grade school decision and high school plans, in one evening we received an unbelievable affirmation about our choices. The scholarship could only be given to a student who had attended that specific parish grade school and who would attend that specific diocesan high school. And, of course, it could only be given if you completed the application form.
I can almost see God winking at us now.