Beauty – Notes from My Heartsong

Warmth floods my heart tonight in spite of the cold outside…

At the end of a day filled with so many beautiful little things, who couldn’t help but smile?

I had promised my Littles an extra skating slot because they had three quizzes yesterday and a test today, poor dears. They deserved a reward for all their hard work! So this morning, we were on the ice before ever going into the classroom.

Snowflakes floated down all around me, settling gently on my hair, dusting everything I could see like a scene from a Christmas card. So peaceful.

We played several rounds of Centerline on the glassy smooth ice that’s only experienced in the first slot of the day.

The other teacher and I were the last two people free, and my students giggled in delight when we had to go “it” for the next round.

Don’t ever think that being the teacher makes games easier with young children! It’s much more exhausting to play games as a teacher than a student.

When you’re the teacher, they ALL chase you… and I don’t mind at all. I laugh as the whole mob flocks after me, then I allow them to overtake me after giving them a good challenge first.

Soon they started to practice all their “cool” hockey moves, testing their nine year old coordination to its limits.

Next, they graduated to imitating Mr. Popper’s penguins in their approach to the end zone, laughing as they zoomed toward the boards headfirst on their stomachs. (Thankfully my penguins can turn, roll, and sit up as needed to prevent this form of amusement from becoming catastrophic!)

A song floated through my mind as I paused at one side to simply observe the game and soak in the beauty of pure childish enthusiasm. “I still have joy, I still have joy, after all the things we’ve been through… I still have joy!”

So many parts of teaching aren’t idyllic like this scene. But in moments like this, I know with confidence that it’s all worth it.

Yes, there are little problems that you face daily, threatening to wear through your patience. That’s only to be expected when you are working with a roomful of immature people who all have an Adamic nature – and you’re one of them.

There are relationships to continually monitor and mend.

There are always those who struggle in one area or another, and sometimes the solutions seem illusive though we try so hard to help.

Every day, a group of children enters my classroom. They need to be taught, guided, corrected, nurtured, encouraged, and loved.

Some days, the responsibility feels a little heavy.

But looking back, I’ve seen change over the years. I’ve watched these children grow.

The tenth grader who looks me in the eye and smiles when we pass in the hall…

The wee girl who used to be afraid to come to school, now bouncing confidently through the door with a lively sparkle in her eyes every day…

The boy who returned the question when I asked him how his day was going… I wonder if he could hear the heartfelt meaning when I simply replied, “it’s going very well, thank you!”

My shiny eyes after he passed were from recalling the many times he had rebuffed attempts at conversation in the past…

These students that fight through insecurity, that hesitantly start to believe what we tell them, that they are loved and precious in God’s sight… they are why I teach.

I’m seeing these students learning to reach outside of their walls, to not only let others in but to reach out and touch others hearts, and it’s beautiful.

These moments, these enormously important so-called “little things” are why I teach.

No, it hasn’t all been an easy journey, but I keep on because I love it.

Because so many little moments sprinkled into every day make the journey beautiful.

And “after all the things we’ve been through, I still have joy!”

First of all, a disclaimer: This post holds a high potential to make my writing instructor cringe.

It will not be edited, as the hour is late – more on the reason for that later – and I am currently halfway through a 4 day teachers’ conference.

(Think overload in all categories – socially, spiritually, intellectually, emotionally… even physically, if you drag yourself away from those wonderfully conversational strangers to engage in a few games of volleyball. Enough said.)

This exhausted human, now home in solitude, is apparently unable to break away from the endless flow of words I’ve been alternately drowning and delighting in.

Instead of listening to a talented speaker who has prepared an organized topic, I’m now the one needing to release words. Random words. 1:00 am words. Words that capture the essence of various, disconnected aspects of teachers’ week. And you, brave soul who has made it this far, are the recipient of it all.

So, here goes… I warned you!

Breakfast with strangers is a pleasantly awkward way to begin an event. Today (the second day) was slightly noisier than yesterday, however I am still grateful that no crunchy foods are on the breakfast menu. Yogourt and fresh berries are as silent as the people waking up at my table.

Singing from my heart with an auditorium full of humans who have now had their morning coffee is definitely awesome. I love looking across the group and seeing the beautiful diversity in God’s family… how we all share a common passion for Christian education, yet so many different walks of life are represented. It’s like a glimpse of the Bride of Christ to me – His kingdom is not limited to one people group or way of living out the Bible!

By mid-morning, my arm is tired from writing. Possibly I overdo note-taking… but when you place a pen in a teacher’s hand… especially if it has nice ink, well – it’s inevitable. The pages will be filled.

Lunch arrives. We’re all abuzz about our personality types, and specifically how to deal with personality clashes with students. How much do we unconciously frustrate our students, simply by being us? How can we as educators intentionally embrace the unique characteristics of each God-designed child in our class? Eventually, our plates are empty, and it’s time for some volleyball.

You can’t solve every school problem during teacher’s week, so when ideas have been sufficiently shared… postpone the issue. It won’t take care of itself; it will remain for further discussion… but those courts look inviting and the game is happening now.

After an afternoon of more instruction on teaching, my mind is wearily whirling. I should feel brilliantly equipped and inspired to teach – but I really feel like I just need my bed.

So I joined another conversation. Stayed there for a lengthy time, transitioned to someone’s backyard to continue socializing around a campfire…

Someone asked what our goals are for the coming year, since we’re receiving this training. My response? “I had specific goals, before this. Now they’re crushed under the weight of awareness that I have so much to improve in!” (I know myself, though. Those goals will revive with more passion than ever after this week.)

After many more random topics had been covered, and my mind journeyed in several more abstract directions, my car and I journeyed home. To solitude, quietness, and bed.

Instead of feeling sleepy though, my brain started regurgitating every piece of information that’s been thrown at me. Not in a cohesive manner, mind you.

And this is where this post’s title finally enters the picture. (I apologize. It’s terrible to delay this long. Possibly it’s only sheer curiosity that has kept you until now… and if you’re skimming, I understand.)

So I got home, with all these thoughts spinning, and as I’m wondering how I will ever retain all of this, I heard one thing replaying distinctly. The speaker’s voice rang confidently in my memory, I could see the earnestness on his face as he declared, “Sufganiyot.”

Then the crowd’s tentative response, according to the direction given in how to pronounce the word. “Sufganiyot.”

And my very overwhelmed mind, replaying this moment, could not remember the meaning of the word!!! This Hebrew word, taught by a couple who spent several years living in Jewish culture, must have some deep spiritual meaning attached to it that I must not forget!

I was desparate. My binder is at school, so I can’t access my notes until tomorrow. Would google really embody all that the word meant to me? I couldn’t even remember in what way it resonated in my heart, but it must have if my mind was so clearly recalling it?!

But then, suddenly, it came to me. The speaker saying, “Sufganiyout is the Hebrew word for donut.“

Yes. That’s correct. It means donut. And I had it in the same category as words like shalom or gelassenheit…

Sometimes things aren’t as deep as we make them.

But for me, personally, the deeper and hidden meaning of sufganiyot will always be this week. These moments.

And sure, a donut.

Tag: Beauty

Snowflakes and Joy

The Deeper, Hidden Meaning of Sufganiyot