Story: Tricky Students and Wise Professors

(Image of St. Johns College at Cambridge sourced from Wikimedia)

Young trickster Flora was a wizard at cheating her way through school. She had the peripheral vision of a wiz and she was a class act in academic misconduct. She could hack the internet for answers, she could see others tests from miles away, and she even could mark up her arms with answers undetected. Flora was the integrity council’s worst nightmare. She had managed to cheat her way through high school and now her final test was fooling a college professor.

Old Professor Smith was known to be a stickler on grades. He taught financial accounting and allowed for not a single decimal point to be misplaced. He was ruthless in marking X’s in red ink and relentless in making sure all of his students were honest in their work. He valued determination, authenticity, and the truth. He was the poster child for top notch professors. Flora had met her match.

Flora had a financial accounting test coming up quick and she came up with the plan to fool Professor Smith. Flora's plan was perfect. She decided to test out the water bottle method. She wrote all of her notes and answers on the back of a water bottle label and then reattached the label seamlessly. “Professor Smith is going to have no idea what hit him,” Flora brooded to herself.

Test day rolled around and all of the students were on edge, except for Flora. Flora couldn’t foresee any problem. Tests were passed out, the class went silent, and the scantrons were pulled out. Flora was taking peeks at her water bottle and everything was going according to plan until she undid the cap and took a sip of water in hopes of making people less suspicious. As Flora was setting her bottle down to get back into the groove of things her classmate knocked it over in the process of holding up her hand. Water spewed from the bottle and landed all over the floor. The bottle was emptied, classmates were now wet, and Flora’s answers were exposed.

Old Professor Smith quickly came to the soaked situation and discovered the answers hiding behind the facade of an empty water bottle. Professor Smith looked up at Flora and smiled and then proceeded to say, “Finish your test.” Flora felt sick. She had never been caught before nor did she expect this type of outcome. “Wasn’t he supposed to scream, holler, and kick me out?” she thought to herself. Flora found herself sweaty and nervous. She could no longer write because her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She went up to the front of the class, turned it what she had and walked out only to receive an email in her inbox from Professor Smith that read, “See you in my office tomorrow at noon.”

Many nightmares later and a breakfast that was quickly stomached, Flora headed to see Professor Smith. She knocked on the door promptly at 12:00 o’clock and the wooden door slowly creaked open to reveal Professor Smith with a frown on his face. Panic seeped into Flora’s veins. She had never felt such guilt, she knew what was to come. Professor Smith gestured for Flora to take a seat and she reluctantly did. Before Professor Smith could utter a word Flora burst into tears and profusely apologized. Professor Smith’s face did not change and Flora fell silent as he began to speak. “If we ask anyone what cheating is, that person may tell us that cheating is an act of dishonesty. Based on this answer, we have to ask ourselves, whom exactly we are lying to.”

Flora sat in disbelief as her tears dried. She began to critically think. It didn’t take long for Flora to realize that she had been lying to herself all along, she was the one who had been fooled. Professor Smith had watched her come to this realization and then gave her a second chance to take her exam the following week. Flora thanked him and walked out the door with a new wave of motivation. As the door shut, Professor Smith's heart grew softer as he knew he did his job well. Professor Smith guided the way for Flora to be sprung into what education is supposed to look like: honest, truthful, and hard work.

Author's Note:

I chose to base this story around the Fox and the Stork from La Fontaine's Fables. This particular story stuck out to me because I knew I could somehow put a creative spin on it and make it relatable to the audience. One of the storytelling prompts was to somehow make it relevant to OU students, which is exactly what I did. I felt as if that prompt was fitting for this story and for me as it is my last semester here at OU. I wanted to add a deeper meaning than the original one, which is why I chose to keep the professor's honesty intact and guide Flora with his own wisdom to see what was right and what was wrong. In the original, the fox just walks away with his ears burning in defeat and the stork is gleaming with pride. You can't fight fire with fire so I wanted to change it to something that had more depth.  The picture I chose was of St. Johns college in Cambridge, where I had the pleasure of visiting. I thought that this particular photo eerily resembled some of OU's buildings so I snuck it in there.  

Bibliography:
The Fox and the Stork, link to the online reading.
Fables of La Fontaine, link to online reading.

Cheating quote sourced from Dinara Kairbayeva.

Story: Jesus and the Leper

(Image of Jesus healing a leper sourced from Wikimedia)

Many of you don't know me; In fact, many of you have never even looked my direction. For years and years, I have waited with bated breath on the side of the cobblestone road that you people walk every day to get to work. You go and you visit with your families for meals, you go and laugh with loved ones at local wineries, and you go about your everyday chores and never bother to look in my direction. While you go go go, I sat in the same spot longing for someone to talk to me. I sat there with skin falling off my very bones, deformities altered my face, and contagiousness left me completely and utterly alone. Day after day, I sat and I could feel my muscles wither away leaving me paralyzed. My skin was discolored and my heart was empty. There were tears, there was sadness, and depression often crippled my bones. I was among those who were infected by disease and labeled as “outcast.” I did not know love, I did not know kindness, and I did not know what compassion looked like, until I saw the face of Jesus.

Jesus is a controversial name and man in this town but He is one of the best people I know. He extends a helping hand to those who need it, He hears those who go unheard, and He reaches the hearts of those who are deemed unlovable. I was touched by this man and I was cleaned by this man. This man made me whole and I am who I am today. Jesus is the reason I can stand before you today and He is the very reason all who are listening will now look upon my face. I once was a leper. I was one of the many people that you dared not to come in contact with. You passed by every single day. I have finally been seen. I have finally felt what it was like to have been known and to be valued. My skin was once discolored and now is normal, my face was once was deformed and now is in place, my heart once was broken and now is whole. I once was infected and now I am clean.

This Jesus saved my life and He can save yours. I am who I am today because a Man, who is of the utmost authority, got down on bended knee and whispered "Be thou clean." While He told me not to go out into the streets and tell of what has been done, I cannot help but shout it from the rooftops. He has healed me and my heart is overflowing. For all my days I will sing His praises. The messiah has come and he has touched my heart and cleaned my wounds. Go forth quickly and see this man named Jesus for He is the real reason we are breathing, moving, and living this blessed life.

I leave you with the same words Jesus left me, "Be thou clean."

Author's Note:

I have read the Gospel of Mark numerous times throughout my life. I’ve heard it in Sunday school, mission trips, and in my own personal quiet times. That being said, the story of Jesus healing the Leper was not new to me. In fact, I practically knew it by heart. The prompt I chose for week 3 was to write a motivational speech. While doing my reading this particular story seemed to jump off the pages and exclaim “Write Me.” I couldn’t say no. It would've been easy to write a speech motivating those in Biblical times from Jesus's point of view, but I wanted to change it up. I wrote my speech in the leper’s point of view who couldn't help but tell other people of how he had been healed. In fact, Jesus told the leper NOT to tell people, but the Leper couldn't contain his joy or words, in the same way I couldn’t help but write this story. That is one of the most interesting parts to the story I think, the fact that Jesus said don't go tell people. I believe Jesus wanted the healed man to show his gratitude through his actions and not necessarily his words. However, most people including myself will often do the opposite of what we are told and that is exactly what the healed man did.  I think this story adds depth to my portfolio, because it shows my heart’s cry. I believe my own beliefs and morals shine through this story. I don’t know this healed man personally, but I do know my heart beats for the Lord in the same way I imagine this man’s does too. I think this story reveals my own values that I carry with me, thus adding substance to my portfolio.

Bibliography:

King James translation of the Gospel of Mark, link to the online reading.

Story: The Broken Pot

(Image sourced from a blog for teachers)

Hey, hi, hello. Down here, yes, me in the rice bowl. I may not look like much, I’m nothing but a wee little grain of rice, but I have feelings and thoughts. You may be wondering, “What in the world am I doing listening to what this little grain of rice has to say?” Well, let me tell you, the little guys count too.


Let me go back to the beginning. I was one of many little grains of rice who cohabit in this beautifully crafted rice bowl in India. I came from a long line of other kinds of wheat and grains and after a long period of time had passed I somehow plopped into this rice bowl in the hands of a sweet and tender Indian man who daydreams far too often. Daydreams are not always bad but in this particular case, my owner's daydreams made me feel betrayed and unwanted.


The other day my owner was daydreaming aloud and I heard some things that I was not too fond of. My owner proceeded to tell the tale of how he was going to sell me, my friends, and my family in an effort to gain more and more materialistic things. I would be traded for goats, the goats would be traded for cows, the cows would be traded for buffaloes, the buffaloes will be traded for horses, the horses would be traded for gold, the gold would be traded for a house, the house will be used to gain a wife, the wife will have a child, and then my owner shall have everything he wants in life. Or so he thought...


His daydream took a turn and he dreamt that his wife is distracted with the daily household work and cannot hear him. In his frustration, he went forth and claimed he would give her a kick with his foot. Only, it was all in his head. In reality, he kicked the very thing that was supposed to give him his heart’s desires. He kicked the beautifully crafted pot where I and all the other grains of rice reside. In an instant, the pot broke from all sides and like a waterfall we all poured out onto the dirty ground and in the crevasses of the floor of our Indian household.


I may be nothing but a grain, but there is a lesson to be learned. That lesson is that all things hold value. The goats, the cows, the buffaloes, the horses, the gold, the house, the distracted wife, the child, and a teeny tiny grain of rice shouldn’t be tossed aside. There is worth found in all things and in all people, don't let dreams get in the way of understanding that principle.


Author's Note:

In the original story, this plot line was told from the point of view of the Brahman. The Brahman expressed his desire to grow in society through a trail of daydreams where he would trade one item for another to eventually reach his desired social status. However, the dream was interrupted with a kick to the rice pot bringing him back to reality. I read this Indian fairy tale and wanted to do something a little outrageous. When I read the prompt I tried to think of the most absurd minor character I could find and I couldn’t think of anything zanier than telling the story from a grain of rice’s point of view. In my reading, I saw that every story had a lesson. I kept that within my story by putting emphasis on the fact that the little guys hold value too. Don’t count them out. The image that I chose came directly from the desire to give the grain of rice a humanized effect. I wanted to bring the rice to life in a novel way and I believe that this image sets the tone for what the story is going to be about.



Bibliography:

The Broken Pot, Indian Fairy tales by Joseph Jacobs with illustrations by John D. Batten (1912). Link to online reading.

Story: Sue Ellen's Sneezes

(Traditional Nursery Rhyme sourced from The Nursery Rhyme Book by Andrew Lang)

It was a crisp Sunday evening in New York City. Sue Ellen cozied up in her loft on the lower east side with a cup of steaming hot chocolate in hand. Her long brown hair was tied back into a sleek ponytail and she somehow managed to make her pajamas look professional. Sue Ellen was the type of woman who had every minute of every day planned. She never veered from the plan that she made for  herself. Every Sunday she took the day to herself to recharge and gear up for the workweek ahead. Little did Sue Ellen know what this week had in store for her.


“Beep, beep, beep,” Sue Ellen’s alarm clock went off and her week began. She threw on her black pencil skirt, a blazer, and her most comfortable heels and headed off to the office. Sue Ellen ran out the door so quickly she hardly noticed her allergies beginning to act up. She was running to catch a taxi for work when her eyes welled up with tears and she felt a sneeze coming on. Just as Sue Ellen was about to cross the street and hop in a taxi, “ACHOOOOOOOO,” her eyes shut for half a second and then an abundance of horns began to honk and before she could open her eyes someone grabbed her arm to pull her out of the street. Her eyes opened and she came to the realization that she could’ve just been hit by a car due to her allergies. The beginning of an old rhyme her grandmother used to say popped into her head, “If you sneeze on Monday, you sneeze for danger.” The rest of Sue Ellen’s day went according to plan and no more near-death experiences occurred. She could only hope Tuesday would be more in her favor.


Tuesday morning rolled around just like Monday and Sue Ellen managed to make it to work in one piece. Meetings, phone calls, and emails all were completed on time and in an orderly fashion and the office waited for 5 o’clock to roll around. One of Sue Ellen’s co-workers was celebrating her 26th birthday and the whole office went out to celebrate with happy hour. One drink led to another and soon the whole office was seeing double, erupting in laughter, and participating in a night they probably wouldn’t remember. Between the haziness of the alcohol and allergy medicine, Sue Ellen felt another sneeze coming on. “Oh no,” she thought, this couldn’t mean anything good. “ACHOOOOOOO,” Sue Ellen opened her eyes only to find an attractive man standing before her. “Bless you,” he said, and Sue Ellen thanked him and then erupted into nervous laughter. The two hit it off and after hours of authentic conversation, goodnights were exchanged and he kissed Sue Ellen before they parted ways. The second line of Grandmother’s rhyme popped into her head, “Sneeze on Tuesday, kiss a stranger.” Sue Ellen wondered what her allergies had in store for Wednesday.

(Personal Image was taken in NYC in August of 2016)

Sue Ellen woke up Wednesday morning with a major headache and a throat that longed for a glass of cold water. She took some medicine to rid herself of the hangover and the allergies that still lingered. While she lay bundled up in her covers, she dreaded what the rest of the week held. Monday and Tuesday foreshadowed the days to come so Sue Ellen thought it would be best to go over the rest of the rhyme in her head,


“Sneeze on a Wednesday, sneeze for a letter ;

Sneeze on a Thursday, something better ;

Sneeze on a Friday, sneeze for sorrow ;

Sneeze on a Saturday, see your sweetheart tomorrow.”

Sure enough, Wednesday night after Sue Ellen sneezed a letter came through her mail slot from a long lost friend wanting to make up for lost time. Thursday rolled around and Sue Ellen’s allergies remained. She scurried to the office just like any day but there was a bouquet of sunflowers waiting on her desk for her arrival. The sunflowers came attached with a promotion and Sue Ellen thought this couldn’t get any better. On Friday morning, Sue Ellen’s infamous ‘ACHOOOOOOO” occurred once again, and resulted in a downpour on the city. The heavy rain kept everyone inside and their spirits low, just like any gloomy day would. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday’s rhymes had all come true. Now all that was left was Saturday.



When Sue Ellen returned home Friday night she couldn’t have been more thankful for the week to be over. Her bed awaited her with open arms and engulfed her in a blanket of warmth. As she lay in bed, she realized that her allergies were finally beginning to come to an end and she was hopeful for one last day left of this sneezing madness.



The last line of the rhyme said, “Sneeze on a Saturday, see your sweetheart tomorrow.” Sue Ellen laughed at the thought of seeing her sweetheart because she didn’t have one. She was the type of woman who fell more in love with her job and the city she worked in than with a man. She valued friendships and community and while she was always alone, her heart was never hardened. Saturday she spent the day recovering and taking care of herself and wondered who she would run into the next day.

(Personal Image was taken in NYC in July 2016)

Sue Ellen woke up to get her daily coffee from the coffee shop right around the corner. Her eyes began to water and her nose started to sniffle and she knew what came next. “ACHOOOOOO,” just like clockwork she sneezed and then before her the same man that kissed her goodnight at the bar walked into her coffee shop. Their eyes locked and he flashed a big ole smile just as he blurted out his greatest pickup line, “Bless you.”

Author's Note:

At first, I struggled coming up with a story based off the Nursery Rhymes that were given to us to choose from. I knew I wanted to do something based in New York City because a big part of my heart resides there. In fact, I’ll be moving there permanently this coming December. I knew my story setting but then it became a matter of what the plotline was. I looked through the fables and rhymes until I came across this one and it just stuck out at me. I thought there could be something magical about these said sneezes, thus bringing this story to life. The rhyme allowed for a lot of creative freedom which made this story enjoyable to write. I liked that I could tailor this story to my own liking and insert my own photos. In a weird way, I picture myself as Sue Ellen. I used my own office and experiences to make this story more believable and relevant to the audience. I think out of all the nursery rhymes I could choose from this one was not commonly known which made it enjoyable to write. This story was based on the traditional nursery rhyme found in Andrew Lang's The Nursery Rhyme Book.

Bibliography:

This story is based on the nursery rhyme "If you sneeze on Monday" in The Nursery Rhyme Book, edited by Andrew Lang.