Time

Welcome October

  

O hushed October morning mild,

Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;

Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,

Should waste them all.

The crows above the forest call;

Tomorrow they may form and go.

O hushed October morning mild,

Begin the hours of this day slow.

Make the day seem to us less brief.

Hearts not averse to being beguiled,

Beguile us in the way you know.

Release one leaf at break of day;

At noon release another leaf;

One from our trees, one far away.

Retard the sun with gentle mist;

Enchant the land with amethyst.

Slow, slow!

For the grapes' sake, if they were all,

Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,

Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--

For the grapes' sake along the wall.

 

-Robert Frost

The same leaves ...

The same leaves over and over again!

They fall from giving shade above

To make one texture of faded brown

And fit the earth like a leather glove.

Before the leaves can mount again

 To fill the trees with another shade,

They must go down past things coming up.

They must go down into the dark decayed.

They must be pierced by flowers and put

 Beneath the feet of dancing flowers.

However it is in some other world

 I know that this is way in ours.

-Robert Frost

Love never fails.

Their smooth, fresh faces, mask the hidden, dark scars, and the broken places. They come each day. Into my life. From different homes. With different stories.

How to begin? How to become the teacher they need?

Study every standard, memorize every objective, each essential question?

Differentiation?

Utilize flex-grouping?

Create lessons plan?

Accomodate for their needs?

Become proficient in technology?

Yes, all these are important components, but I must not forget the most basic and neccessary need of these I spend my days with now.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails....And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (NIV)

My Little Girl

After an incredibly long week at school, my reward was walking in the door Friday afternoon and seeing her beautiful self. Those green eyes, that dark hair, and that sparkling smile. I took her face in my hands, kissed her on her cheek, and then the tears erupted. My daughter. Oh how I missed her. Only two weeks, but two weeks too long.

This weekend was spent chatting, catching up, shopping, laughing, and cooking together. It went by too fast for me. She packed up this afternoon and went back to school. And more tears fell. From my eyes and hers.
How precious time spent with her is to this Mom.
How proud I am of her. My little girl,

Gotta hold on easy as I let you go

Gonna tell you how much I love you

Though you think you already know

I remember I thought you looked like an angel wrapped in pink so soft and warm

You've had me wrapped around your finger since the day you were born

You beautiful baby from the outside in

Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again

Go on, take on this whole world

But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl

When you were in trouble that crooked little smile could melt my heart of stone

Now look at you, I've turned around and you've almost grown

Sometimes you're asleep I whisper "I Love You" in the moonlight at your door

As I walk away, I hear you say, "Mom, I Love You More"

Your beautiful baby from the outside in

Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again

Go on, take on this whole world

But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl

Someday, some boy will come and ask me for your hand

But I won't say "yes" to him unless I know, he's the half

That makes you whole, he has a poet's soul, and the heart of a man's man

I know he'll say that he's in love

But between you and me

He won't be good enough

Your beautiful baby from the outside in

Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again

Go on, take on this whole world

But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl

(Tim McGraw)

Second Act

This one takes a wife, has a child and makes a home.

 And that one finishes college and takes a job.

 Now she packs the boxes full and readies for college life. 

Years of parenting in this way, this mode now shifts.

Days of childhood,

 a memory.

Another frequency, another channel and I adjust.

Sometimes overlapping, static and I hear myself say out loud,

'How is it that the quiet in this house is so deafening?'

A blink and they are grown.

Time for the second act.

It kills you to see them grow up. 

 But I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn't.  

~Barbara Kingsolver

Overcoming self

Above all the grace and the gifts that Christ gives to his beloved is that of overcoming self. -Francis of Assisi

Here I am  unpacking, laying it all out...again. That place, that call,  the one I tried to shut out, close off, supress.

Strange, now. It feels natural, like home, really.

Young eyes, eager, nervous look to me. I sense the anxious. I know their insecurity.
One struggles with reading. And that one, another disorder, a deficit.
This one has trouble hearing. Voices in the backgroud distract. I notice. The box that helps her to receive these noises, these muffled tones, she wears on her hip.

My eyes meet hers. Small talk, yet profound. She speaks. I listen.

This girl.

This teacher.

Two worlds collide.

Another journey begins.

685. sharpened pencils
686. stacks of new books

687. freshly waxed floors

688. my lunch box

689. desks in rows

690. flowers for teachers