Chef Levonne's (magic) Strawberry Jello

After high school I started working as a behavioral therapist for a little girl with Autism. Her name was Marisa and she was 4 years old. It didn't take long for her to steal my heart and get me hooked on trying to help this captivating little girl figure out how to make her way in a world that wasn't very welcoming for her.

For the next 2 years I pretty much just followed her around. I went to kindergarten with her as an instructional assistant for the classroom and then went home with her and tried to make our therapy goals match what she would need to know at school. (Usually, it was a whole lot less of the academic stuff and a whole lot more of trying to help her understand what people want when they walk up and throw a bunch of words at you.) My primary job was to help Marisa "fit in" so to speak, in a typical kindergarten classroom. I worked with all the kids, but I was sort of Marisa's "person" and pretty much served as her interpreter. Marisa and I knew each other in that sort of way where we really didn't need words to communicate most of the time, but in the "real world" people need words.

 

Most of the time Marisa loved school. She knew darn well she was a Princess in a Fairy Tale, and now she had all these other kids to play with and sing and dance with. Recess was heaven. And because she'd been in therapy since she was 2, the academics of kindergarten were a breeze. But as the year went on, more and more was expected of all the children. Marisa wasn't the only one falling behind. She knew everything any teacher ever asked her ... colors, numbers, letter sounds ... but bridging that communication gap (without me) was pretty tough. The other kids were always very accepting of Marisa. She was a really cute little girl and everyone loved her. But while Ring Around The Rosie is totally fun at the beginning of Kindergarten, after a while it's a little more fun to experiment with some games that have a few more rules ... hide and seek, freeze tag, red light/green light ... Marisa just couldn't keep up. And when she got frustrated in the classroom she screamed. Maybe I should write that differently ... she SCREAMED. That girl had some lungs on her and could hit notes that would make your hair stand on end. As the social stuff got harder and harder for Marisa to understand, it became more and more clear to everyone that Marisa just didn't "fit in."

For first grade we started a new adventure. Marisa would attend a school called Guiding Hands. I had never even heard of a school like it before. The premise was that typical children and children with just about any disability (from autism to spina bifida to cerebral palsy to childhood schizophrenia) would all learn together in the same classroom. Marisa wouldn't need me at this school. The entire staff there was familiar with working with children with autism. The public school I'd been working at loved me and wanted me to stay. But, Marisa's mom, Shirley, was terrified to send her baby to school almost an hour away without anyone there who knew her. She convinced me to apply for a job there. Even though I wouldn't be in Marisa's classroom, I would be in the same building, and if anything happened Marisa would have "family" there. It was a cut in pay, but it seemed like a really interesting opportunity to work in such a pioneering school, and I had to take it.

I worked mostly in the pre-kindergarten classroom with 4 and 5 year olds and in the preschool classroom with 2 and 3 year olds, but I also ventured down the hall to help with math in the 5th grade classroom for children up to 16 years old. There weren't many more than 100 students in the whole school, so you really got to know everyone. I think I was really fortunate to have that experience. I learned a lot. I only spent one school year there before heading off to college, but it's definitely one of those times in your life that you never forget, and you always wonder what became of those kids that snatched your heart.

Partway into the school year we got a new cafeteria lady. Not just any cafeteria lady, a real chef. She'd never been a cafeteria lady before, she was a caterer. But she came to our school with this incredible attitude. She was SO excited to get to be a part of all this. She talked to EVERYONE for ideas. She SO wanted to make nutritious meals the kids would enjoy. There was nothing "cafeteria" about her style. She made these kids food. Real food that she put a lot of thought into. It was incredible. She was magic. Overnight, lunchtime became magic.

One day she made this jello that I loved. I'm not exactly a jello sort of gal, so the fact that I loved this recipe is saying a lot. A whole lot. The funny thing is that this is not exactly an easy recipe. In fact, I've never actually made it. Whenever I pull the recipe out it just always seems like a little more work than what I had in mind at that moment. Which makes me respect Chef Levonne even more. She made trays and trays of this beautiful dessert for 100+ kids and every one of us that worked there. And it wasn't anything special. It was just a regular lunch day.



Chef Levonne's (magic) Strawberry Jello

2 6oz. Boxes of Strawberry Jello

1 Large Container Frozen Strawberries

1 Small Container Frozen Strawberries

10 Bananas

2 Cans Crushed Pineapple

1 Large Container Sour Cream

2 Cups Cold Water

2 Cups Boiling Water

Dissolve Strawberry Jello in 2 cups boiling water.

Add 2 cups cold water.

In a large bowl mash the bananas and add 2 cans of pineapple with juice.

Add both packages of strawberries (thawed).

Add Jello mixture.

Fill Pyrex dish 1/2 full.

Chill until firm.

Spread sour cream over firm jello and fill with remaining Jello mixture.

Set overnight in the refrigerator. (Must be made the day before it is needed.)