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!”
Notes from My Heartsong 