It seems hard to believe that I did it. This marks an entire year that I have posted an entry for each day. (My first post is here.)
Some days it was hard. I was tired, or bored, or just plain thought there was nothing to post. I resorted to stealing stories from my friends (oh, they were funny, though!). Or talking about the weather. Some days I’m pretty sure I was boring.
Some days were great. I love traveling and can go on and on and on about it.
My hobbies, my favorite sport, and my cat made it in. So did my family (parents, nieces, sister, brother, cousins) and my friends. The news was always there, whether terrible or joyful.
But without a doubt, the majority of the posts were about were the life of a school librarian. There were really hard days and crazy weeks. Sometimes I found things that made me giggle. Sometimes students made me hide a laugh with their comments, answers, and malapropisms. There were students who made me laugh because they were fun and a very special student I will miss terribly. Always, student work itself was a source of chuckles, grins, and fascination. No one can work alone, and there were always my coworkers to liven things up.
So do me a favor if you would. If you’ve been reading the blog for a while (or even a short bit) and have a favorite post, let me know what it is. I have to say I think my favorite memory is September 7. I still grin just thinking of it.
And stay tuned. The year may be over, but I’m still here . . .
This morning we are off on a mini-adventure, an overnight road trip to an island down the shore. I’m not sure of the internet availability there, so I’ll just post early today.
See you soon, ducks and pond!
Every once in a while, when I’m having an off day, I like to go down to the kindergarten and first grade hallway to check out the work hanging there. Sometimes I don’t even have to know what it’s supposed to be before I start to feel better.
Sunday morning service can seem like forever when you are a four-year-old redhead with squirmy tendencies.
Today I was sitting next to LeeAnn’s youngest. He was randomly barking out numbers under the cover of one of the hymns, thinking no one could hear him. It sounded like a quarterback calling plays. Have I mentioned I adore her kids?
My friend Lacy the art teacher always says that if she’d known as a student how funny teachers really were, she’d have enjoyed school a lot more.
This morning we had a teacher appreciation breakfast put on by our student council. At each table were thank-you cards. Mine features a mild-mannered teacher on the front, but inside . . .
I have just returned from a memorial gathering for one of the most extraordinary people I have ever known. Yet I never had a conversation with him or shook his hand.
When Whit was born six years ago, he had cerebral palsy and suffered a stroke at birth or in the womb. His parents always knew they would not have him with them a long time; still I cannot imagine what it felt like to begin home hospice care on March 22. On Sunday, March 24, Whit’s older brother told his Bible class, “Whit won’t be living with us anymore, he’s going to be living in heaven.”
On Friday morning, March 29, just after midnight, Whit left the arms of his family to awake in the arms of his heavenly Father.
As his father Jeremy said, “Our son who has never even crawled crossed the finish line in the greatest race any of us will ever run!”
Although he never learned to vocalize language, I defy anyone seeing him with his family to deny his ability to speak to them.
Although he never went to school, played sports, or made friends in the traditional way, Whit did something so much more important.
Whit brought unconditional love into so many lives. And he taught those around him to love unconditionally.
Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
Today I was teaching the second grade the concept of alliteration. I use the book SuperHero ABC and then the students create their own superheroes.
I was surprised when one student could identify the word alliteration. I asked him where he’d heard it.
“My sister’s in the fourth grade,” he said. “She’s done it for homework.”
“Good,” I replied. “Now you can tell her you’ve learned something from fourth grade too.”
“Yeah,” was his muttered response, not necessarily toward me. “Who’s the smart one now?”
Would it surprise anyone that I saw the first thing he’d written as a name for his superhero was Noisy Nathan?
I’m reading Diary of a Spider to a first grade class.
Me: Does anyone know what a diary is?
First grader: It’s when you eat bad food and keep having to go to the bathroom.