Hold My Hand: Remedy for My Destiny

By Genie Craff

Genie Craff shares a collection of humorous, teachable, precious moments with the solutions that brought success to each and every special learner in every short story. Within this Brainchild of a Master level teacher, you will learn how the human connection closes the gaps, solving some of the most challenging issues learners bring to the educational setting.

The Remedies in the second half of this book, bridge the gap between the responsibilities of parents and the duties of the teachers to prepare children for the progressive steps along the child's early educational journey. We now know that it is not early reading, rote counting to 100 before age 2 or technology usage that is the best indicator of a young child's educational success.

Learn which skills are necessary to build vocabulary for successful reading and math achievement for every young child. Teachers and parents use these proven Remedies daily to hold the hand of a child desiring to learn. You can too!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491808412

Genie Craff

Genean Craig, M.Ed, affectionately known as Ms. Genie, has been working in the field of Special Education for over thirty years. She has always loved reading, and teaching children to read became a passion from early in her career. Genean strives to continue to reach those she teaches with heartfelt love and with a special way of touching the soul. Genean attempts to reach those who are considered by some to be the unreachable. She teaches those who are considered unteachable. Most importantly she loves many of those who are considered unlovable. Teaching all over the United States, traveling abroad and teaching children who were very ill have provided some of Genean's most precious memories. Genean shares her time in Florida, Virginia, Colorado and many other places, with those she loves. She continues sharing her inspiration with those who love learning as much as she has loved teaching. Genean lives in Miami with her one and only, the man she has always loved, Michael. I am thrilled that you chose this book. Thanks!

Book preview

CONTENTS

Book Reviews

Reviews For Ms. Genie/Ms. Genean

Introduction

Dedication

Can You Teach Me… ?

Are You Afraid?

My Teacher Will Die!

There Are More Lemons

My Cat Can Read Better Than Me!

Mom! You Can’t See!

Spider Webs!

Those Are Scales

I Made Money!

He Is Your Child!

Too Much Water

Summary

Remedy For My Destiny

Book Club Discussion Questions For Hold My Hand

Indexes

Index: Remedy For My Destiny—Magic List Of Solutions That Really Work

About The Author

BOOK REVIEWS

Children need their parents and teachers to hold their hands until they are able to stand alone as they continue to enjoy learning. Thank you for providing a helping hand for parents to help their children to become better learners. ~ Mrs. Mignon (Dr. Frank), Hale, Grandmother, & Educator (Retired)

Wow!! The powerful messages made me think of the important role I have in my daughter’s education and future. Awareness starts before she even goes to school. This is awesome! ~ Joya Harris, Mother, & Aquatics Instructor

Very compelling stories- it felt like I was sitting in the room with Ms. Genie and the children. I absolutely love the homework tips, a great tool for all families! ~ Kelli Theyson, Aunt, & Author

Good for Megan… but most importantly, good for the world the children will live in. ~ John Jackson, Father, Sr. Vice-President Leadership Development, Wealth Masters International

Full of loving feelings, I was drawn to the light and warmth that Genie Craff brings. She delivers such illumination to our weary souls. She shares a profound and generously creative gift for helping young learners find their way. A gift which will surely be a divine blessing to many for years to come. ~ Michael Meridian/K9-Apostles

Vivid representation from the child/youth’s perspective drew me in and provided a glimpse into the daily reality (strengths and challenges) of families. The tips are wonderful! ~ Ashante Butcher, Aunt, & Early Childhood Education Instructor

Very touching. Oh, the lives we touch by listening, helping and being there. This book brings to life how important it is to be available help, guide and model for our younger generation. Very simple steps aid us in the right direction to show we care. One life at a time. Thank you Ms. Genie! ~ Lois Bava, Grandmother, & Consultant

I read the book and I liked it! I wanted more! ~ Nancy Rosen, Mother, & Registered Nurse

Very sweet heart-warming stories. Listening to one comment and dedicating time and effort can make a difference in a child’s educational experience. Homework can be happy times. ~ V. McCole, Mother & Early Childhood Education Instructor

Very well written… you got the knack for sure. ~ Karl Bessey, Father & President, Wealth Masters International

REVIEWS for Ms. Genie/Ms. Genean

* I believe there must be a mother on her knees somewhere who desperately needs help for her precious little baby. ~ M, a mother who prayed

* To Genean Thank you for Helping me With all of my School work and Teaching me haw to get threw school. The TricKs you Taught me were a Big help. Thank you for Being Such a good friend. ~ C, daughter, age 11

* Thank you for everything. God Bless You. ~ The ‘A’ Family

* Dear Genean thanks for everything in the past two years I have learned alot for you. I’ll miss you. ~ J, daughter, age 9

* Dear Genean Thank you for teaching me. I think you are a good teacher. I hade a lot of fun with you ~ M, son, age 9

* Dear Genean I just wanted to say Thank you so much for the work you are doing with my daughter. She really enjoys coming here. You are truly an inspiration for her. Also thanks again for taking your time to talk and share your ideas with me. Sincerely, ~ G, a grateful mother

* The card said, ‘I picked up the most extravagant birthday gift for you today… but the blue light special went off, so I had to put it back.’ "Genean, It has been fun working with you. I am goina miss you. (2 legit to Quit!) ~ D, son, age 11

* Be MY VALenTiNe Forever Please ~ S, son, age 7

* The card said, ‘I want to fill your arms with a thousand flowers… and your heart with a million hugs!!’ Dear Genean, thank you for helping me Learn. Love ~ A, daughter, age 8

* "Avalanche Win! (Picture an outline of the Stanley Cup, with my name, Genean printed on the front…) inside was printed… your just as cool as The Stanly Cup Go Genean! Sincerely, ~ S, son, age 13

Part 1

Children’s Courage

Part 2

Remedy For My Destiny

By:

Genean Craig, M.Ed.

Image1.jpg

Thank You So Much!

http://www.geniecraff.com

Other Books by Genie Craff

LOST CHAPTERS: Think & Grow Rich And Wealthy

In the near future:

Personal Branding: Finally It Is ALL About ME!

Properly Set: How To Achieve Any Goal

Stallin’ Callin’: Healing Personal Relationships 2.0

Books: Hold My Hand: Remedy For My Destiny Part II

Release Date: TBA

Introduction

Genie Craff shares a collection of humorous, teachable, precious moments with the solutions that brought success to each and every special learner in every short story. Within this Brainchild of a Master level teacher, you will learn how the human connection closes the gaps, solving some of the most challenging issues learners bring to the educational setting.

The Remedies in the second half of this book, bridge the gap between the responsibilities of parents and the duties of the teachers to prepare children for the progressive steps along the child’s early educational journey. We now know that it is not early reading, rote counting to 100 before age 2 or technology usage that is the best indicator of a young child’s educational success.

Learn which skills are necessary to build vocabulary for successful reading and math achievement for every young child. Teachers and parents use these proven Remedies daily to hold the hand of a child desiring to learn. You can too!

Dedication

To those who struggle to decode

To those who struggle to encode

To those who struggle not to be laughed at

To those who laugh at those who struggle

To those who don’t know what they don’t know

To those who think they know, but don’t know

To those who want to know what they don’t know

To those who know, now, what they didn’t know

Can You Teach Me… ?

Chapter 1

As I turned to walk down the hall, I thought I heard a small voice reaching up towards me in a soft inquiring way. The day had been typical in that some learning therapy appointments had cancelled and some had not. However, in that moment, that typical day ended for me. I had not heard what she was saying, just a whispering voice from the child closest to me. With all the excitement the three boys were generating, along with all the sounds that lived, like a noisy amusement park, in the waiting room, I was surprised I heard her at all! I turned to look where the still smaller voice had come from. Had I seen her before?

Was she the little sister of Lee? Or of Monte? I had been headed down the hall to work with both of them. I just couldn’t remember where I had seen her before. My searching glance provided quite a sight. Her hands were folded, below her chin, in a praying almost pleading pose above the faded yellow bodice of her well-worn dress. I stopped and took several steps back to where she was standing. I instinctively went down on one knee to hear what she was saying. Stretching up towards my right ear, she quietly whispered, making her request. She asked, Can I come too?

Come with me right now? . . . I stammered and instinctively said, I have to work with the BOYS right now. Do you really want to come and watch ‘THE BOYS? I was hesitant but came across much louder, to my own surprise, than I had intended my words to be. Perhaps I was unconsciously stressing ‘the BOYS’ trying to make it sound somewhat unpleasant to her?

She silently began to nod. On cue, the yellow ribbon from her pony tail, became untied and it bobbed in unison as her head moved up and down. The earnest pleading on her face became more intent and serious, her eyes wide with expectation.

What had happened to all the amusement park noise in the waiting room? It was way too quiet. I could hear nothing but the beating of my own heart. I realized all eyes in the large holding space were on the two of us.

Then I remembered and knew, I shot a glance down the hall and I saw her brother, Monte, standing frozen about halfway down the hallway all alone, his head turned towards the two of us. The other two accomplices had gone ahead into my office. I could see the hesitation of her older brother’s movements and feel his inquisitive eyes burning all the way into the back of my head.

Even that far away, I could still see that color had risen to his freckled face, almost as if he was standing too close to a campfire. It was as if he wanted to throw more logs onto the hot coals and watch the flames flash and dance… only to step back quickly, running away, not wanting to see how hot it should, would, or could get. Without taking his eyes off of either of us, he stepped into my office; far enough away from the silent stares of those he had left watching us from the waiting room.

If and only if, I would allow such a young visitor, I had to think quickly how to make it all happen. I knew I would need the permission of all the parents and of the boys. I had to respect the boys and their families first. Tutoring is so very private and reveals so much every second of every session. I also knew I only had a very few seconds to decide. Those boys were in my office alone!

I stood slowly and as I did, she took my hand. I need to ask the parents for permission and there are rules to follow… but I guess it is OK. I said much more quietly than before, but no less hesitantly as I noticed how soft my voice had become.

A smile broke onto her face and I noticed a recent snack had not been completely removed from just below her left cheek. Could it be raspberry or maybe grape jam? Not time to figure that out, I looked at the parents of the two other boys first. Words had not been exchanged, but the nod from Lee’s mother and the wink from Steven’s father, from behind the partially folded newspaper, had given me what I needed. I could tell by the look on their faces that they thought I was insane and crazy to think any of this might work. The two parents seemed to have no problem, but before we ventured down the hall, hand in hand, I needed to ask her mother.

I glanced quickly at Megan’s mother, Sue, who had gasped when she heard my response to her daughter’s petition, but it must not have made much of an impression as she was already back into a deep conversation with the parent sitting nearest to her. She so urgently needed someone to talk to. The other parents who were waiting for their children’s interventions and their sessions to end, provided a captive audience Sue could not resist.

Sue? . . . Sue? I asked? Megan’s mother never missed a word as she spoke with the other mother whose face looked as if she had already had her ear bent enough. Megan’s mother was starved for adult interaction and the stress of being a single mother with two children was apparent. She had admitted to me once that this was the only time she could talk to adults. If she didn’t talk to them there, where would she talk to parents who were experiencing some of the same challenges and difficulties with their children?

The other parent touched Sue’s arm and said something to cause Megan’s mother to look up at the two of us. I finally had Sue’s attention, if for only a fleeting moment, it reminding me a lot of her son’s attention span.

Is it OK if Megan watches our session today, as long as she obeys the rules? I asked.

Are you sure? Well, OK! Only if she’ll be no trouble… Sue’s voice trailed off as she was already turning to continue to talk to the other parent. I nodded, realizing my head now silently matched the bobbing ponytail at my waist. As we turned together, I realized how small and warm the hand holding mine was. I looked at her perfect little hand in mine as Megan led us down the hall. I led her to the doorway but held her back from entering my office, indicating silently for her to stop in the doorway, with a slight squeeze of her hand.

When she looked up, Megan’s smile reminded me of someone whose Olympic journey may have not been successful, but proud of the fact she had been able to participate and compete. I let go of her hand and retied the yellow ribbon into a bow. Then I took a deep breath, stepped through the doorway, and faced this circus head on.

The very lively group of three, 7th grade; boys were talking all at once, telling stories at a higher and higher pitch in order to be heard over one another, and generally goofing off all at the same time. Monty had joined them, acting out like a pro. All at once, they saw Megan. You would have thought a glass framed picture had fallen from the wall and crashed to the floor, shattering into silence. Their noise subsided instantly. Their eyes were wide. I hadn’t realized she had walked through the doorway and slipped her hand back against my overheated palm. I could feel Megan’s tiny hand tighten in mine.

Hummm… . Steven, do you mind if Megan observes our session today? I asked. Steven, was the blonde sandy-haired boy with the green t-shirt, who always sat to my right. He was the most agreeable one of the group that is why I asked him first. He would probably give his permission without any hesitation. Steven had no siblings. I rarely saw him interact with younger children, particularly any little girls, and thought he would be the least likely to have an issue with Megan joining us.

He looked at Lee, and then shot a sideways glance at Monte.

Sure. He said, his beautiful green eyes looked back at me. Steven was always looking for assurance that he had said or done the right thing. The thing that would be most accepted by this group of men-want-to-be’s. I nodded with a slight smile and Steven had the approval he craved. He flashed that sideways smile of his in Monte’s general direction again. I noticed that his teeth looked especially crooked and they had not been brushed, at least not since his last snack.

Lee, do you mind if Megan observes our session today? I asked. Lee, the young man who sat directly across from me, in front of the calendar, would go along with about anything Steven said. His level of decision making and security was heavily based on what he perceived Steven and Monte thought of him.

Lee was acting like he was in charge, acting like he was the one with all the authority and the one who was ready to work. Unfortunately, Lee’s sense of humor was not very much more developed and rarely rose above the typical potty talk for this age group, so his last topic did not match his behavior at all. He was sitting too straight in his chair, trying to look taller, something we had been working on. He suddenly seemed most interested in Megan who was peeking from behind my hipbone at Lee.

Sure, if everyone else agrees. Lee said, and confirmed his firm decision by nodding, looking at Steven and then at Monte. Lee took the moment to assert his sense of knowing, of his emerging ‘tweenhood’, of his ‘pretend’ authority, and continued to make himself look even more ridiculously mature. I loved this about him and smiled.

Sitting to my left was Monte, the quiet one. He would observe as much as the others would talk, if the topic was a school subject. I often had to peek around the longer brown hair to see his soft brown eyes. When he talked he would make sure there was no one else talking, when I was in the room anyway. This made hearing him difficult with two other boys who were dominating not only the amount of time they talked, and the volume, but the order and topics, limiting the few words he would have shared. Lee had agreed with Steven, Megan could observe the group. Now, I had to get permission from Monty, probably the most important approval I would need in order to grant the quiet request.

Monte, . . . I began. Monte’s eyes rapidly moved back and forth between Steven and Lee. It was difficult to detect what silent ‘manly’ messages were being sent, since his hair concealed most of those messages. Monte had long ago decided that Megan, as a little sister, was really not anything to pay any attention to that was obvious. He dismissed her often. He also realized his importance in the decision and I could feel the slight shift of power, as it took place. As I took a breath to begin again, Monte nodded silently but continued to visually check in with the other gentlemen one more time. I exhaled, realizing that it had been easier to get Monte’s permission than I thought it would be.

Sure. Monte finally whispered. He looked back at Megan and then turned his interest to the stack of folders in front of him. I knew he may have not have totally agreed if it were up to him alone, but at that moment he did not want to stick out and make a scene. He quietly shrunk behind the waterfall of gentle auburn brown curls, every so gracefully covering both eyes now, even though he had assertively made the final decision.

Whew, I thought. That could have gone any number of different ways. I thanked the three boys and then reminded them.

Sometimes the subjects you boys want to talk about might not be appropriate for a little lady, and I will be listening carefully for inappropriate topics and words today. My gaze had a little extra sternness as I made eye contact with Lee and Steven, giving each one an extra second, one at a time for emphasis. The two boys smirked. They knew exactly what I was implying. I almost smirked too! Monte just sat quietly observing. I knew he knew what I was talking about without saying anything directly to him.

The boys sat back in their chairs, like a group of old men sitting on a porch, sipping sweet tea, telling porch stories, on a hot summer day. They each gathered their learning folders and I watched as they giggled about something while I showed Megan where to sit. I placed a couple of picture books, a box of newer crayons and a number of sheets of blank paper next to her.

Megan looked up eagerly, smiling shyly, from the small table and chair in the sunny windowed corner of my office. Now that I thought about it, I hoped she wouldn’t be too much of a distraction. I really had not spent any time with her, other than in the hallway, such a few short moments. What had I gotten myself into?

My memory had returned. I remembered seeing her when waiting for the next group of children both before this group and then again after. Their mother would sit across the room allowing Megan to do as she pleased, until it was time to go. She delighted in finding the books with the most pictures. Megan would carefully turn the pages and would go back for book after book, piling them up in front of where she liked to sit at the little table as she finished with them. She didn’t like to leave the book area in the waiting room even when it was time for her mother to take them home. In fact, it was usually Megan who put up a fuss when it was time to leave, embarrassing Monte each and every time.

I remember asking the Receptionist about Sue. From what the Receptionist reported, Sue rarely interacted with her daughter during the times she waited for her son. She could really talk to the other parents!

If I placed my chair correctly, I would be able to observe both tables at the same time. I wanted to return the favor of observation to Megan, as she observed us. Megan was an older 4 year-old, almost 5. I recognized her now, remembering her brown hair, similar in color to her brother’s. Her hair had a touch of chocolate and a shiny shimmer of sun, mostly on the ends and close to her face. Her hair was usually in a pony-tail, straining to stay collected after a long day without experiencing a comb or brush. Her ribbon had given up the job of staying tied in a bow, as it fell on each side of the thick tail once again.

From Megan’s slight frame hung her faded way-too-big dress. It was much bigger than I had noticed before, as it tempted to fall off one shoulder. Megan tugged at it and was sitting very lady-like for her age, hiding the fact that her mother had her wearing shorts underneath her dress. I left her to get the boys started and she was already ignoring the books the paper and the crayons.

Megan’s eyes seemed to completely absorb everything in my office. She studied the calendar. Long moments passed as her eyes reached into every bin and box of materials to discover its contents. Was she memorizing all that confidential stuff on my desk? For a number of minutes Megan did not take her eyes off of the Wall of Honor that housed prized papers much like any refrigerator door. Finally, Megan glanced at my bookshelf, but she did not move. I know there were other books there she would have loved to examine for their pictures, but she did not move. She did not touch the paper or the crayons either. It was almost as if she hadn’t seen them. I got a strange feeling, I had seen this before…

As I watched the slight child, I realized Megan may have some of the same learning concerns that her brother Monte, was working through. I shuttered to think Megan could be a perfect candidate for my youngest little girls’ group, and I tried to put it out of my mind. That realization always touched my heart, added additional acid to my stomach, and set my determination that this would not be a child who would have to live her whole life challenged, if I could help or find her help.

Long term, the repercussions could be so great. It would become clearer and clearer to me as the minutes ticked by. I was now a little less puzzled by her request to come and watch the session. Would it matter to her that the boys were so much older? Only time would tell.

I pushed my internal reset button and shifted my mind to the exercises of teaching. The boys’ studies focused mostly on their decoding sounds, individual reading comprehension, vocabulary building and the retention of concepts and themes they had already studied. Writing, spelling and written vocabulary were also areas of need for all three.

To mix things up, I created fun math activities. These were fun for all of us and somewhat a strength for all three of the boys, which was quite unusual. These included special projects that might be a part of their regular school curriculum, or sometimes their homework. Their Thursday afternoon sessions were fun and the time usually melted away as we worked together.

I got the boys started quickly, because it felt that so much time had already been lost, even though only a few short minutes had passed. This was all far too advanced for Megan, but she continued to sit quietly, not