Bumpy Beginnings

This has not been my typical start to a school year. Everything was moving along at the constantly increasing speed that is typical of the beginning of a school year, when we paused to go camping for Labor Day weekend. In what I can only describe as, well, old age creeping in, I stood up wrong and twisted the arch of my right foot in a painful way. We cut short our time camping and returned home to go to the emergency room. The docs there said nothing was broken, but there was definitely an injury of some kind. They kindly supplied me with an inflexible shoe and a pair of crutches. (Yes, they are youth/kid-sized crutches.) I could clearly hear the gears of my life grinding to a halt just when my speed should have been accelerating. I would need to adjust my pace, and as it turns out, I am not very good at adjusting my pace.

I made it through Parent Orientation with the help of my assistants and the use of a stool. My first first day of school (I have two first days, since I teach two different classes) proved exhausting. It was wonderful in all the ways a first day of school is supposed to be wonderful. I took the first steps in getting to know 18 little delights, and I look forward to developing our relationship throughout the school year. Of course I overdid it. How could I help but overdo it? I teach preschool, and preschoolers do not have a pause button. We just kept going and I did my best and then went home to put my feet up and rest. Oh, and be scolded by my husband when I failed to put my feet up and rest. I hurt, but I was determined to start it all over again the next morning.

My second first day started out about the same, with me hobbling around and the kids asking about my “crunches.” (Crutches – I do love kids!) All was well until we closed the door to the classroom. Immediately upon the click of the door, a child burst into tears. This is not an uncommon occurrence on the first day of preschool. As teachers, we hope the parents will have the courage to let us handle the tears and help the child regain his or her composure. Quite often, the child who starts the day with tears will end up having a great day, if given the chance. This particular child had a LOUD cry, causing the other children to cover their ears. We stood up to begin our routine with our welcome song, but the remainder of the children were extremely distracted by the one who was crying (and being comforted by my assistant). Since we couldn’t really move forward, stopping everything seemed appropriate. I said to the kids, “Sullivan (name changed) is feeling sad. Let’s pray for him.” They bowed their heads and folded their hands while I prayed for Sullivan to feel better. As soon as the prayer started, the crying stopped. It was beautiful. On the very first day of school, those students got to extend compassion to their fellow student AND they saw the power of prayer.

In the course of my teaching, I often pause to pray for a distraught student. That is one of the benefits of working in a Christian preschool, and I take full advantage of it; however, not every student will respond as Sullivan did. Often, a child cries even louder upon hearing his or her name mentioned, but even when that happens, prayer is never wasted. When the troubled student is seemingly unaffected, there are 17 other little souls who, for a moment at least, are thinking about how to help their classmate. Egocentrism is the rule of the day with four-year-olds, so even a brief foray into the world of “how might I help my friend” or “why is my friend feeling this way” helps develop pathways for empathy. Thinking about asking God for help also begins to build the foundation for a prayer-filled, God-centered life. Being able to ask God to be present and moving in our classroom is a precious privilege that I never want to forget about. Christian teachers in a public school setting also know and understand the power of prayer. They pray over their class list, often walking around the classroom before the day begins to pray each student’s name aloud. They silently lift prayers during difficult times of the day and offer prayers of thanksgiving when a challenging student responds to a teaching strategy. Those unheard prayers are every bit as powerful as the ones I can speak aloud in my setting.

We are now three days into the new school year, and I am still struggling to hit my stride, literally. My crutches get in the way and throw my whole body out of whack. They are annoying, and I am irritated that I could do something as simple as standing up and get injured by it. I miss my walks and haven’t been able to get out and take any nature pictures for over a week. I am making extra work for my husband at a time when he is extra busy, both at work (getting a presentation ready) and in his leisure time (getting ready for opening night of a play he is in). He has done everything from dishes to laundry to food preparation to driving me places to bringing me water to...well, so much more. I am so grateful for him. I have to take a bit of time out of “day four” to go to the doctor for a follow-up appointment. Hopefully, I will get some restrictions lifted and at least be able to drive again, but whatever the outcome, I know God is in control. I have already been reminded of the power of prayer in a real and tangible way. God is so merciful and gracious to me, even in the midst of my own egocentrism involved with this injury. It is my hope that I can retain that perspective of “prayer first” throughout our school year.

Thank You, God, for this bumpy beginning. Thank You that Your mercies are new every morning. Thank You for all the great people in my life who are available to help me. Thank You for teaching me to accept help graciously as I need it. And especially, thank You for those amazing preschoolers of mine. I can’t wait to get to know them better. I love You, Lord. Amen.