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Tag: boarding school

#alt=I'm a Hidden Immigrant, debbiejoneswarren.com
Surprise! I’m a Hidden Immigrant

Surprise! I’m a Hidden Immigrant

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Here’s the link to a podcast in which I’m interviewed by a writer friend, Mabel Ninan https://player.lightcast.com/0AjM5kjN Below is the story behind this interview! In April 1963, my husband and his family immigrated to California from Scotland when he was five years old. In the first few months of kindergarten, kids often pushed or punched him just to get him to speak. Then they laughed at his funny accent. By Christmas, the shy, little boy had taught himself to speak…

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#alt=Where Can I Find Satisfaction, debbiejoneswarren.com
Where Can I Find Satisfaction?

Where Can I Find Satisfaction?

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While living in a boarding school for ten years as a child and youth, I developed many necessary coping mechanisms. They got me through hours of loneliness, confusion, and grief. With the threat of a bad report card being sent home to my parents at the end of each term, I was motivated to measure up in my classes. At Kent Academy, I also got a Dorm Report Card covering my attitudes and actions throughout the day. Each week I…

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#alt=A Salty Tale, debbiejoneswarren.com
A Salty Tale

A Salty Tale

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“Soup again?” My stomach sank to my toes. We had soup every Saturday at Kent Academy (K.A.), the boarding school for missionary children in Nigeria. Just a thin broth with a few pieces of chicken, soft slithery onion bits, rice, and parsley. But not much flavor. “I love this soup with chicken and rice.” My tablemate swallowed a big spoonful. “Not me. I wish there were noodles. The green flecks taste yucky.” I stirred them around. “My mom puts that…

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#alt=Tribute to Mom on Mother's Day, debbiejoneswarren.com
A Tribute to my Mom on Mother’s Day

A Tribute to my Mom on Mother’s Day

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Dad ran a hand over his stubbled chin as he stepped into the kitchen of our mission home in Nigeria. “Marcy, there’s a plane coming tomorrow. Do you have any cookies to send to Kent Academy for Larry and Debbie?” Mom dried her hands on the towel beside the sink and crinkled her forehead. “Oh, Herb! We ate the last of the brownies with our afternoon tea.” “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” Dad rubbed Mom’s weary back. “I’ve…

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#alt=Hospital building, Comfort is Hard to Come By, debbiejoneswarren.com
Comfort is Hard to Come By

Comfort is Hard to Come By

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The morning sunlight streamed through the crack at the side of the curtain, and I blinked my eyes awake. As I sat up in bed, pain shot through my right arm. Even wrapped in a cloth bandage, my right arm throbbed from when I fell off the monkey bars the day before, on the playground at the boarding school for missionary kids in Nigeria. I scooted to the edge of my lower bunk in the dormitory and slid my feet…

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#alt=workbook A Surprise Experience of Forgiveness debbiejoneswarren.com
A Surprise Experience of Forgiveness

A Surprise Experience of Forgiveness

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Sitting in a women’s Bible study, I looked around the circle at the smiling faces. Am I the only one who has trouble with forgiveness? I wondered. As a six-year-old, my heart shattered when I was sent to boarding school for several years. When I returned home for vacation, I couldn’t express to my parents the homesickness, rejection, and abandonment I experienced. I felt hurt and angry. The many instances of abuse I saw from people who were supposed to…

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