More About Morgan: Chapter 3

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Chapter Three – I Want to Do What You Do

The next day, I called the school and made an appointment to see Miss Amy. Not only did I owe her an apology for never coming back to say thanks for all her help; but, I also wanted her advice.

At breakfast, Mom asked what my plans were for the day. After hearing mine, she said, “Well, I’ve prayed about it all night, and I’ve decided to accept the assistant manager job. I’m going in to sign paperwork, then I’ll stop by the college and find out what my first steps need to be to earn that degree.”

“Mom, I’m so proud of you for taking steps to fulfill your potential!”

“Well, you might want to wait to find out what my grades are before you are too proud.”

“Here is what I know: you are a hard worker. You put everything into what you decide to do. You don’t give up. How could that not translate into getting a degree?”

“Thank you, my own personal cheerleader,” Mom said as she gave me a hug.

“Wow, look at the time! I’m supposed to see Miss Amy at 9,” I said over my shoulder as I took my breakfast dishes into the kitchen to load up the dishwasher.

“Ok, see you later,” Mom said, “I’ve got to go find something professional looking to wear to the corporate office.”

“Wear what you wore Sunday,” I called after her as she headed upstairs.

I thought to myself as I headed towards the school. “Mom is going to need a lot of help with studying, with navigating the corporate world, and with wardrobe choices. These are all things I know well. Lord, I really feel you want me to come back and help her.”

Before I knew it, I was standing in the hallway of my old high school. The only thing different from nine years ago is now there was a guard at the door and a metal detector you had to walk through before being allowed inside the school.

He buzzed Miss Amy to let her know I was waiting; and she came out to meet me.

“Morgan! How wonderful to see you! You look so awesome!”

I gave her a big hug. “Miss Amy, you don’t look like you’ve aged a day!”

“Morgan! Didn’t that fancy school teach you to tell the truth! I feel like I’ve aged several decades since I last saw you.” Miss Amy led me to her office and then sat down next to me on the same little love-seat where we sat the day she told me I had won the scholarship.

“Miss Amy, before I go any further, I just have to beg your forgiveness for taking all your help and then never sending word on how I was doing, or thanking you, or anything! That was just rotten of me, and I am ashamed!”

Tears sparkled in her eyes as she said, “Well, Morgan, I can’t deny it would have been nice to have heard from you, but I understood your situation. You were in pure survival mode.”

“That’s true, but it was still no excuse. I’ve made things right with the Lord, with Sister Clara, with Mom, and now I’d like to make things right with you,” I said tearfully.

“Morgan, I forgive you. I’m just glad you did come back, and … wait a minute! Did you say you made things right with your Mom?” she asked excitedly.

“Yes! Let me tell you all about it,” and I started relating everything that happened since the fateful day Kai confronted me.

At the end of my story, Miss Amy was just dumbfounded. “I can’t hardly believe God would send an angel to confront you – You’re sure he was an angel?”

“I’m as serious as a heart attack! God will do whatever it takes to get His children’s attention. Hopefully, not everyone’s as hard-headed as me to where such drastic measures have to be taken.”

“Thanks so much for sharing your story with me! It gives me a lot to think about. But, we’re running out of time before I have my next appointment, and I remember you said on the phone that you had something to ask me.”

“Yes, I do. Of course, I wanted to ask your forgiveness, but I also wanted to ask you what I would need to become a guidance counselor like you.” I took a deep breath, “I feel like God wants me to work with kids who were in the place I was all those years ago. If it hadn’t been for you and the help you gave me, I don’t know where I would be today. Who knows if I’d even be alive?”

“I want to do what you do,” I said fervently.

Miss Amy stared at me in surprise. “You’d give up your high-paying job to come work with high school kids? Do you realize you’d be only earning a fraction of what you could make at your current job?”

“I have a great nest-egg. I never spent any of the money I earned except on living expenses – well, all right, I do have a seriously nice wardrobe – but still, I accumulated quite a lot what with making a fantastic salary, bonuses, stock options and such. I can afford to take a cut,” I grinned.

“I also feel I should tell you that as I was earning my marketing degree, I was a double major and I have a secondary education degree as well.”

Miss Amy shook her head, “Imagine that! You, an over-achiever.”

“Miss Amy, it was meant to be. My Mom is going back to school to get a marketing degree. I feel led to give back to this school. I need both degrees to help. I just didn’t know it at the time.”

“I’ll have to look into the details for what the requirements are now. It’s probably different than when I started all those years ago, but I do know you will have to have a Master’s degree and you must have a teacher's certificate. It would be even better if you had taught a least a year in the classroom,” Miss Amy mused.

“Ah, so, I will have to hit the books, just like Mom. I don’t have a Master’s in education, just a Bachelor’s.” I grinned, “We can have study nights together.”

Glancing at the clock, she said, “I’m going to have to let you go now, but I will get back with you on the requirements to get your teaching certificate and just which Master’s degree you’ll need. I probably already know the answer to this, but I am wondering if you want to teach while you are studying for your Master’s?”

“Oh, definitely teach while I’m studying. You know I’m a workaholic!” I declared.

“I know you don’t know what you’re getting into!” Miss Amy smiled sweetly.

I let that remark slide off me like water off a duck’s back. Now to go home and tell Mom my decision!

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