Miracle on Southwest Boulevard

One particularly horrendous day I felt ready to throw in the towel, call up Tulsa Public Schools, and tell them I was quitting. I was going to take up selling auto parts or some other routine, methodical sort of work because this job was simply too hard! Already that morning I had called DHS to come take a little girl out of a terribly abusive home. I had to suspend two fourth grade boys for bringing a pocket knife and brass knuckles to school. I had to call the police because a father of one student was threatening a father of another student out in front of the building. Stacks of paperwork needed my attention, and I had a line of students waiting for discipline from me. And this was just a typical day at Eugene Field. There was never a “light work day.” Every single day, the duties of the job were extremely hard and demanding. I arrived at school before anyone got there, and I stayed well after everyone left. I worked until 10 p.m. some nights. I was working Saturdays and Sundays. I was tired. Emotionally and physically exhausted, I put my head down on my desk one evening around 9:30 p.m. Alone in my office, I began to cry. I was missing my family. I missed going home at 5 p.m., and cooking dinner, and watching television. I missed my son and his baseball games. My husband and I were like passing ships in the night. I hardly ever got to see my children and grandchildren. I needed to pack up and go home, but I still had so much work to be done before the next school day. Flailing and drowning in this new position of mine I literally got down on my knees on the office floor and prayed, “God, I need you and I need your help. I don’t want to be here anymore. You must have a plan. This is the worst place I’ve ever been!” Still sobbing, bargaining, and wagering with the Lord I said, “Help me. Send me the people of God! Tell me what you want from me. What do I do? Why am I here?” I prayed a long time that night, until I finally packed up and drove the 30 minutes home. Haggard and worn, I dragged myself inside and climbed into bed and finally fell asleep. About a month later, my tearful prayer and sobbing that night in my office forgotten, a couple of members from the First United Methodist Church in downtown Tulsa came walking into my office. It is a church so big that the number of active members reaches up into the thousands. This church had been involved with Eugene Field off and on before I became principal. On this momentous day, these church members sat down in front of me and let me know they wanted to increase their involvement with our school. In the back of my mind, I remembered my pleading with God that late Wednesday night, asking Him to please send me people. And. He. Did.