Spoon Lady

Deb Wofford

Description

Deb Wofford, local woodcarver, owned and operated an art gallery in downtown Noblesville, Indiana for 20 years. Deb's passion for the arts became a mission to combine both the world of artistic expression and the virtually invisible world of disability together. Her knowledge in both areas came more from life experiences rather than books and degrees. That being said, sometimes her decisions, or shall we say indecisions, were less than perfect, but the end result ...?Well, it worked.

Informations

• Publié par: First Edition Design Publishing
• Date de parution: 15 janvier 2017
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781506903750
• Langue: English

Extrait

Spoon
Lady

a collection of stories about the passionfor art and a mission to help those with disabilities

Deb Wo f ford
Spoon Lady
Copyright ©2016 Deb Wofford

ISBN 978-1506-903-75-0EBOOK

December2016

Publishedand Distributed by
FirstEdition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com



ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r or publisher .


Print Version
Published &distributed by: Deb Wofford
in association with: IBJ Book Publishing, LLC. 41 E. Washington St., Suite 200 Indianapolis, IN 46204 www.ibjbp.com
Copyright © 2016 by DebWofford ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of Deb Wofford.
First Edition Printed in the United States of America
SpoonLady was inspired by therecollection of events experienced in an actual workshop. The cast ofcharacters have had their identities changed in order to protect their privacy.It is through the respect for these individuals that these stories needed to betold, in the hopes that it will encourage future generations in the area ofspecial needs.

It is the author’s intent to honor those people that seem tobe lost in the invisible world of the disabled.
Author’s Note
Chapter 1 - The Players
Chapter 2 - Where It Began
Chapter 3 - The Birth of TheFriendship Spoon
Chapter 4 - Turning Point
Chapter 5 - First Cast ofCharacters
Chapter6 - Goodbye , Hello
Chapter 7 - Changing Minds
Chapter 8 - New Faces , New Places
Chapter 9 - Who Are You ?
Chapter 10 - Turning Tides
Chapter 11 - One Step Forward , Two Steps Back
Chapter 12 - The New Roadie
Chapter 13 - My CousinRoberto
Chapter 14 - A Fish CalledChris
Chapter 15 - The Artists ofOlde Town
Chapter 16 - Come Back Again
Chapter 17 - Buy One , Get One Free
Chapter 18 - Take Me Out tothe Ballgame
Chapter 19 - When You LeastExpect It
Chapter 20 - Loved Ones Lost
Chapter 21 - House Guests
Chapter 22 - HolidayTraditions
Chapter 23 - UnforeseenHazards
Chapter 24 - Hometown Hero ?
Chapter 25 - Game Changer
Chapter 26 - Driving Me Wild
Chapter 27 - New Life , New Love , New Direction
Chapter 28 - End of an Era
Author’s Note

The history ofcare for those born with disabilities or those that have acquired mentalillnesses has changed dramatically with time and knowledge. These individuals,once considered untrainable or dangerous, were usually institutionalized andhidden away from the outside world. But through many years of study andunderstanding, mental disabilities were found to be controllable throughtherapy and medicines. Institutions became a thing of the past.
The medicalterminology used in describing these folks changed from mentally retarded toindividuals with disabilities, special needs or mental challenges. Children arenow usually cared for in their own homes with the help of therapy, earlyintervention and tender loving care. Programs are offered in regular schoolsthrough the help of aides and assistance. Special needs children are finallyintegrated members of our society.
As thesechildren grow into adulthood, some live on their own with a variety of programsoverseeing their activities. Group homes are another form of assisted living.Sheltered workshops take the place of the day to day activities schools offeredwhen they were younger. These workshops provide job training and social skillswith the hope of finding a place in the outside workforce. But for those notable to function in the aforementioned environment, jobs are usually providedin-house.
Although oursociety has come so far with the care and understanding of those with specialneeds, we must travel further along the road of progress.
Many peopleendure challenges and disabilities unbeknownst to the world around them.Appearances may stand out suggesting the special needs of certain individuals,but there are those who seem to have no disadvantages at all until aconversation takes place or behavior erupts. This group lives with perplexingdifficulties and hardships unseen to most, and more times than not, deemedunacceptable by society’s standards. These individuals are sometimes shunned,sometimes pitied and many times ignored. Not because people are insensitive,but because the general public still does not know what to say or how to act.It is, at times, beyond our comfort level when our world collides with theirs.As a result, their world becomes invisible as we try to deny their veryexistence.
My passion for the artsbecame a mission to combine both the world of artistic expression and thevirtually invisible world of disability together. My knowledge in both areascame more from life experiences rather than books and degrees. That being said,sometimes my decisions, or shall we say indecisions, were less than perfect,but the end result? Well, it worked.
Chapter 1 - The Players

Introduction to the story.

As the wind whips along the pavement, I walk quickly through the alleylodged between two old buildings. I love to follow the lines of the brick,hinting there was once a window here and there, now covered up and weathered asthe years passed by. My attention is diverted to the mixture of snow flurriesand rain blowing across the entrance onto the street. This is central Indiana,where the weather is never to be counted on. Yesterday, it was sunny and warmerthan usual for a March day, but today differs quite a bit.
My arms are weighed down with two grocery bags full of supplies needed tostart the day. I finally reach the front door of my shop, but fumble to turnthe knob. As I balance one bag on my hip, hold the other between my knees tokeep it from touching the damp ground, I finally am able to free my arm enoughto throw the door open and hold it with my hip.
I am usually the first one here, but leave a key with one of my moreresponsible employees in case of delays due to the weather being sounpredictable. This was one of those mornings and they all seemed to come inearlier than usual.
At this point, at least five employees jump to rescue me, all grabbing thebags from my arms. They are so anxious to help that they pull the bags inseveral directions, tearing one completely in half and spilling the suppliesall over the floor.
“I’m sorry, Debbie, I didn’t mean to tear it,” Casey explains as Teresafalls to the floor chasing the paper towels rolling under the window display.
“Debbie, I have to talk to you about something that happened last night,”another spoke up, not even comprehending the confusion of the moment.
“You had a phone call,” a third one chimed in. “They wouldn’t leave theirname.”
“My friend’s bird died and she needs a sympathy spoon,” Rhonda begins herstory about the previous night.
I look up to see Jeri holding her new cassette tape that she bought last week,and then notice Jeffrey smiling at his new lighter sitting on the table.“Jeffrey, why do you have a lighter here at work?” Joanne asks him, eyeing me,which is her way of telling on him. Nervous twitches in play, she is sitting inthe chair next to him shaking one leg as she sticks her tongue out of thecorner of her mouth.
“Because I am a man,” he answered. “I am a man, Joanne, and men havelighters.”
At this point, Teresa catches the runaway paper towels beneath the table,only to stand and bump her head, knocking over a tray of jewelry. “Jeffrey’sDad said he could bring it in,” Helen explains. “He won’t light it. Will you,Jeffrey?”
“But he is not supposed to have lighters here,” Joanne quickly retorts,with her leg shaking faster. “Is he, Debbie?”
“I am going to make a card for Susie’s bird. How do you spell Jeri’s lastname? I want all our names on the card.” Rhonda was still talking about theprevious night as if we were the only ones in the room.
“His dad said he could have it here!” Helen snaps back to Joanne. Witheveryone talking at once, Joanne about to respond and Rhonda still going onabout the bird, I hold my hands up, coat and gloves still on, and raise myvoice two degrees, “Everyone stop!”
A hush fell upon the room, but only for about five seconds. Then Rhondacontinues, “Well, I am going to make a card.” I look hard into her eyes aseveryone else remains quiet.
I then hold my finger in front of my mouth as if to say shhh, but veryquietly speak instead, “Let me take my coat off, put my things away, and saygood morning. Then I will speak to each one of you individually.” The art oftalking to a whisper, which is not my forte, usually works.
“Now take your seats!” I said sternly. I then turn to hang my coat in theback room. Not a sound is made until I am out of sight. The disagreements thencontinue until Jeri starts to play her new cassette.
“Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” changes the mood of the room immediately,and I even hear a few sing quietly. They hardly notice my return as each onefocuses more on the music and the work I have already laid out for them.Whenever things seem a little out of control, give it a minute. The mood of theroom is constantly changing, except for Rhonda. She seems to have a one-trackmind.
I take my place behind the counter that overlooks the room and call eachone up individually. As I check their work, some talk about plans for theweekend, birthdays coming up, and of course, Susie’s bird and Jeffrey’slighter. By 10 a.m., all the problems of the world have been discussed and allseems a little calmer.
* * * * * * * *
As you can tell, this is not your usual work environment — nor your usualemployees. My stor