Code Breaking and Memory Making

This week in my class, we read a story about the Navajo code talkers of WWII. If you don't know anything about them, be sure to look them up. It's a fascinating story...especially if you're a 4th grader. Turns out codes are enchanting at this age.

We had a bit of "extra" time (I just happened to build into the day) today, so I handed out a code for them to interpret. They each had a partner. I wouldn't give them any clues. "It's all in the letter," I said slyly.

The summer before my senior year in high school, my parents signed me up for a three week volunteer job with the Missionaries of Charity. We worked in the summer camp they hosted in the little coal mining town of Jenkins, KY. 

I wasn't crazy about the idea, as I had no idea who the Missionaries of Charity were and had only vaguely heard of Mother Teresa. Also, my dad always teased me about becoming a nun; as in, "Nuns don't date",  and "Nuns don't need a driver's license." I really thought they would send me to Kentucky and I'd never get to finish high school because the sisters were sure to make me be a nun. Also, it just so happened that my seventeenth birthday fell right in the middle of my time there.

My dad, who has never been much of a letter writer, decided to write me a letter in code for my birthday. I was homesick, and also without a phone, television, radio, or even a movie theater. My three classmates and I became pros at Trivial Pursuit that summer because it was the ONLY form of entertainment in the homeless shelter where we were staying. 

Today I handed out that letter to my students and assigned them the task of decoding it to discover what my dad was trying to tell me. It kept them busy for quite some time (as it did my roommates and me in Jenkins). They were thrilled and wide-eyed as each pair came to my desk to read me the letter. "This is fun!", and "Can we do another one?", were heard throughout the room.

It was one of those perfect moments in the classroom. A fun, learning activity that coordinated perfectly with what I was teaching, as well as a sweet memory for me to share with them and to relish for myself.

It made me grateful for my parents and the effort and creativity they put into my upbringing. I'm so grateful they made me go that summer. I spent 11 more summers with the sisters in Jenkins, New York City, Charlotte, and Atlanta. My time with those saints changed me. I'm grateful for letter writing, care packages, and pay phone calls home. I'm grateful those summers allowed me the opportunity to stand face to face with a canonized saint on several occasions. 

And today, I'm grateful for a story in the 4th grader reader about code talkers that allowed me to go back in time.