By Lisa M. Belisle, MD, MPH
Originally published September 4, 2007, Portland Press Herald
It began with a birthday party. The evening was cloaked in winter cold, and the guests had yet to arrive. Just home from basketball practice, my thirteen-year-old called out from the kitchen: “Hey Mom! You know the person who founded Safe Passage? The one you went to Bowdoin with? They told us in school—she was killed in a car accident yesterday.”
It seemed I must not have heard him correctly. How could Hanley be gone? She was only 36: my age as of that January day. Unfortunately, Campbell was right. Hanley Denning, the woman known as “El Angel del Basurero," or "The Angel of the Garbage Dump,” was dead. Her family and friends were gathering to mourn even as mine were gathering to celebrate.
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By Lisa M. Belisle, MD, MPH
Originally published July 4, 2005, Portland Press Herald
It is graduation season once more. Caps and gowns abound on campuses across the state, as parents proudly watch their children reap the rewards of their educational efforts. This week a much shorter crowd gathered to don ceremonial mortarboards at the Blaine House in Augusta. These 5-year-olds were Raising Readers graduates: they were celebrating the beauty of books.
Continue reading "How to Start a Wonderful Life Story" »
By Lisa M. Belisle, MD
Originally published May 10, 2002, Portland Press Herald
Books are my daughter’s favorite snack. She usually dines on fairly standard one-year-old fare, wrested from the jaws of the family beagle. Between meals, however, she eats books. Our home library bears battle scars created by her six tiny teeth. She has developed an early ‘taste’ for literature, one that we foster by providing her with books and sharing them with her daily.
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By Lisa M. Belisle, MD
Originally published March 16, 1999, Portland Press Herald
Do these words make sense to you? If so, you have an advantage over 20 percent of Maine residents. One person out of five in this state is functionally illiterate. These individuals have difficulty with many tasks we consider routine. If words make sense to you, consider yourself fortunate.
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By Lisa M. Belisle
Originally published April 3, 1996, Portland Press Herald
I first heard of Dunblane on the way to pick up my son from preschool. The morning was warm, and the air burgeoning with promises of new life.
Suddenly, words on the radio shattered my reverie: “gunman... primary grades... 13 known dead... Scottish schoolchildren.” This dissonant juxtaposition of phrases caused a stirring of emotions from within.
Disbelief, outrage, fear and sorrow filled my being, but chief among these was sorrow. Sorrow for a class of 5- and 6-year olds who would not be trooping home to hug expectant parents; sorrow for the parents of a little Scottish girl named Abigail whose smiling countenance would never more brighten their mornings.
Continue reading "The Gift of Children: A World of Loss Amid Lasting Love" »
By Lisa M. Belisle
Originally published December 27, 1995, Portland Press Herald
Holiday traditions vary among families. Some light a menorah, others an Advent wreath. Some begin the festivities before Thanksgiving, stringing their rooftops with miles of twinkling bulbs.
Our family’s most significant ritual was such an important part of my childhood that when asked to write an admissions essay for college, I chose to write about it. I am speaking, of course, of taking the Christmas card picture.
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By Lisa M. Belisle
Originally published October 4, 1995, Portland Press Herald
A father’s inspiration leads to a daughter’s dream slowly coming true.
For me, the harbinger of autumn has always been the boxy yellow school bus, making its steadfast way down the country lanes. It doesn’t seem long ago that I was a small child, awaiting the bus with a mixture of anticipation and abject horror. I don’t feel old enough to be packing my own child’s lunchbox.
Fortunately, I have the dubious honor of never having gotten beyond the status of student.
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By Lisa M. Belisle
Originally published June 20, 1995, Portland Press Herald
I witnessed a miracle recently. No, nothing of the supernatural sort. I saw the kind of miracle that happens every day. I watched a cow give birth.
Cow birthing is not something our household experiences regularly. However, being the parents of a toddler, my husband and I have the perfect excuse to do things that we might not otherwise do. We watch Sesame Street on Saturday mornings, visit the Farmers’ Market in the summer and fall, and attend local craft and Christmas fairs.
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