Last week I had the rare opportunity
of spending two mornings with Rita Smith’s vivacious third grade class. The
experience reminded me of my own days of sitting in the same little chair at
the same little desk, and it also reminded me how much things have changed in
(oh my gosh!) forty years. I was there to monitor Rita as she handed out and
progressed through a state-mandated test booklet that would show how much her
class had learned this year. Yes, I was there to make sure the teacher didn’t
cheat! Oh, but don’t you know I could drag out that soap box on this
subject…but I won’t. Just suffice it to say that I was saddened to know that
teachers aren’t trusted when it comes to state test scores, and saddened to
know that the rules were made because some teacher somewhere had most probably
or actually cheated and corrected some student’s wrong answers!
But it was the kids - those wonderful
and mostly eight-year-olds kids - that burrowed their way into my heart those
two mornings! I knew most of them, or at least I knew most of their names. They
freely offered me their friendliness and open smiles, along with their chatter.
One little girl let me know that “Miss Rita” was sometimes wont to call them by
their older sibling’s names, which led to finding out that Rita has been
teaching for seventeen years. A little boy wanted to make sure that I knew him,
his mother, his father and every one of his other relatives. And I was
impressed with each of these smart and funny children when it came time to get
quiet and open up that thick, sealed test booklet. They quietly listened as
Rita gave them instructions. Then they picked up their sharpened, Number 2
pencils, and they earnestly went to work solving reading and math problems. I
had to smile during the silence that ensued…it was accompanied by many
sniffles, sighs and even a few sneezes! Then the testing session was over, and
once again the room came alive with wiggles and wise words and lots of giggles.
And I was glad I was there amongst them all - these delightful little kids who,
in so many ways, are no different than the kids I sat beside forty years ago!
FFFFFFFFFF
I have to imagine that sometimes God
looks upon us, His children, and just shakes His head in wonderment at our
audacity and lack of thankfulness. And I will freely admit that I am one of
those sometimes unthankful children. I came to this conclusion after our latest
snowstorm. It was April, it was Spring, and the lilac bush beside my sidewalk
had just blessed me with its first radiantly aromatic and perfect stem of
flowers. The robins were joyfully singing, the grackles were getting vocal, and
the doves were cooing their mating calls from hither to yon. Then, wham! I
looked out the window and giant, feathery pieces of white were falling from the
heavens and the world had changed from newly-green to white. I whined and
lamented the sudden return of cold weather, even as I was also in awe of the
beauty of the falling snow. And then, less than twenty-four hours later, the
world had returned to it’s newly-green state of being. Where snow had been,
puddles of water and wet earth now existed. And I realized that God had just
given us a dose of moisture - a gift not a curse - and I just hadn’t realized
that fact. My apologies to God go heavenwards, even as I also say a humble
“thank you” to Him. Not only for the hidden gift of moisture He blessed us with
do I thank Him. But also for the renewal of life - the birds and the flowers
and the right, blue sky that sometimes goes unnoticed. Thus, I will try to
remember to always look beyond the ordinary, and seek to find the extraordinary
gifts that God places in my path and in my life each and every day. And I will
be thankful!