A beginning

So I started a blog. Big time, huh? it's not like everyone, including my sister has one. So why me? I suppose it has a lot to do with the name.

Something for Me...

it came quickly, simply to mind. That's what it is. Something for me. Something to let me get my ideas and viewpoints down on paper, to later be lost in the sea and(to indulge my awful use of puns) surf of the world wide web. Something for me.

But as I thought about the title, didn't it mean more to me? Was this not the way I wanted to do with my life? I suppose that takes a little more explaining.

I want to be a teacher. Not want, need. It is my passion and, I have to believe, the gift that God has given me. Nothing gives me as much joy as finding that little tidbit that was forgotten years ago and writing a whole new chapter to a book no one reads anymore. So how does the title play into this? This is my goal as a teacher. To find that gem for each student. The fact that breathes new life into an imagination that was dulled with the years of grinding through dates and names. I want each student to be able to look me in the eye at the end of the year and say, "This was the day I saw history as you do. It was the day I found something for me." I know. Sappy, isn't it?

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the end of the Thirty Year's War. The Peace of Westphalia was officially signed and made official, ending the war that had consumed most of Europe. Interestingly, the Peace of Westphalia actually refers to two different treaties. The Treaties of Munster and Osnabruck were signed several months apart, simply because, although a treaty was ending a war, that was no reason for catholics and Protestants to sit in the same room. They weren't even in the same city! 50 km distance lay between the two delegations as they ironed out the peace that would come. Imagine being the messenger during that time.

Felix pulled his cloak up around his shoulders, hoping to dull the piercing wind driving into his chest. He could feel that winter was coming early. October, and already the nights were getting chilly. It didn't help that he had happened upon a storm on this night. The bitter cold was all the more painful when mixed with the rain that seemed to float in sideways towards him as he sped along. he couldn't see it, but he knew the horse upon which he was riding was giving up lingering clouds of breath as it raced towards its destination.
In front of him he could barely make out the outline of the village ahead. No matter, Felix had been here so many times in the past months that no amount of thinking could wipe the sight of the city from his mind. The town of Munster lay dead ahead. Towering above everything was St Paul's Cathedral, the place he was headed. To his right, he could hear the chaotic rumblings of a river as it continued to drive itself forward, marching onward to the sea. The river Aa, Felix knew, converged on the city and skirted the city wall, making it a natural barrier to attack. Felix supposed that it didn't really matter so much anymore, though, with the war he was born into almost over. The road was deserted as he passed through the large gate into the city. The wind howled through the narrow streets, creating ominous sounds that would have spooked the young man only a few years ago. As he passed the church of St. Lamenti's, Felix caught the faint creaking of the cages overhead, a reminder to those of the city that the catholic church was not someone that forgave easily. The cages, over a hundred years old, still hung where the anabaptists were tortured to death after their one year control over the city. Felix smiled wryly at the thought of how far, or how not so far, they had come in a hundred years. The horse slowed as it clopped up the hill to St. Paul's. The cobblestones, rubbed smooth over the years, were even slippier in the rain. Felix made the decision to dismount early, lest his steed falter with him atop. Stopping in front of the large wooden doors, Felix methodically tied his horse to a post just outside. The post, he knew, had been freshly laid in the ground, a special concession to the important group inside. Felix patted the horse softly, grabed the leather satchel hanging from his saddle, and straightened his clothes before rapping on the strong door in front of him.
The door immediately swung open and already Felix could feel a difference. The warmth from the fires inside drove Felix forward, almost before he remembered to remove his hat and bow slightly to the priest. "They have been expecting you for hours, boy. Best not keep them waiting much longer." Felix opened the small satchel, making sure the package within was still safe. Felix could already see himself this evening. bundled up in front of a fire, the smell of the smoke making him drowsy. he couldn't wait to get the wet clothes off.
He was snapped back to reality when a man began to bark orders at him. Felix couldn't understand the man, but it was obvious from his ridiculous outfit that he was French. He kept pointing at the satchel and gesturing towards himself. Felix quickly removed the package that he had traveled fifty kilometres to deliver, a small parchment, obviously damp from the rain that permeated everything outside. The Frenchman harshly grabbed the parchment and pushed Felix away, unrolling it as he sidled back into the group of men behind him. These men represented the best of the best, the cream that the catholic league had to offer. And now they were in the process of giving away everything for which they had fought. Felix watched from the corner as the parchment was passed from man to man, each face becoming graver as it went around the table. The Frenchman snorted awkwardly. It was obvious what the consensus was to be. Isaak Volmar, a lawyer and trusted aide to Count Maximillian, grabbed a nearby quill an ink and began to press ink to paper. The men around him nodded in agreement as he used broad strokes to write out the thoughts on the latest concession to be given them. Volmar held the paper close to the fire, reading again what he had penned, then tightly rolled it up. Taking a candle from the wall, he leaned it gingerly on its side and allowed the wax to fall onto the parchment, sealing the end of the paper to the roll. Count Maximillian steped forward and pressed his ring into the wax, forming a crest befitting a man of his stature. The parchment passed hands around the room, finally finding a resting place in the small palm of a certain messenger. Felix groaned silently to himself. The fire would have to wait.
As he headed for the door, a young squire approached him. Looking up at him sheepishly, the young boy spoke. "Why do you continue this terrible journey? Is there not a better use of your time? Is the money that important to you?" Felix smiled and rubbed the young boys head, mussing his hair a bit. "It's not so bad. You should meet my cousin. Imagine having to explain yourself to the king after what he went through. A fall of two stories, only to land in a pile of manure. They didn't call it the Defenestration of Prague for nothing!"