September 4, 2009
A friend of mine told me a story that I feel motivated to blog about.
When her uncle was in Jr. high, he disliked school so he began skipping classes and neglecting his studies. As he progressed to high school, he was placed in the lower level classes, and hands on classes like wood and metal shop because of his past poor performance.
One day her uncle asked his mother to please help him get into classes like Advanced Algebra, Biology, or Physics. His dear mom went to the principal and asked for her son to be placed in the requested math and science classes. The principal told them they would try it out, but if he didn’t perform well, they would have to move him back to his former classes.
His mother and the school quickly found out how smart this boy was! When he began to thrive in school, it became obvious that he had been bored and needed a challenge to motivate him. He performed so well in Physics that he was invited to participate in a National Physics contest and placed 7th in the nation. WOW! This boy became a physicist engineer.
If you are the parent of a poor performer, your child just may be waiting for a challenge to motivate them too.
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August 26, 2009
I have made many choices I wish I would have made differently, but this time I was happy with my choice.
I was having some physical concerns and felt like I should get a physical. I called my doctor to get an appointment but the soonest they could get me in was two months out.
The day of my doctor’s appoinment, I was in the waiting room when a frazzled-looking lady that appeared to be in her late twenties walked in with a toddler. I immediately recognized her distress, and suspected she was a working mother with young children.
Right after the young mother gave her name to the receptionist, she was informed that she was not on the schedule and was told that she would have to come back on her scheduled appointment day. She almost started to cry and blurted out that she had gotten off work (Bingo! I was right…working mom) and drove for over an hour to get to the doctor. She begged, “Please, please get me in.” I thought for sure the receptionist would work with her, but she told her that the doctor was running way behind and there was no way to fit her in.
I found myself walking over to the receptionist to tell her to give my appointment to the young mother. I told them it wouldn’t be a problem for me to come back at a later time. Heck, I had already waited two months…what’s another six weeks. I left the doctor’s office feeling very happy about my choice.
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