Blood donors: thank you.
Nurses who quietly back out of a hospital room when they finally hear snoring: thank you.
Penny, who becomes my surrogate secret pal so my “person” has some little gift to receive this week: thank you.
Cindy, who sends a poem called Happiness
along with words of wisdom about planting now: thank you.
Char’s prayerful reminder to Look up emblazoned on a rose filled pottery cup: thank you.
There’s much more to say tonight, dear readers. It’s been another one of those
unexpected weeks where we sit in freezing ERs, where we watch the clock hands circle dozens of times, where we pray for blood counts to go up.
(They did…thanking God.)
It’s been another week where my three classes of fourth graders didn’t get instruction from me. Progress reports are due. Essays need to be graded.
Our school is in trouble right now because of low test scores, and we are required to generate additional data sheets, post essential questions along with our objectives, etc. etc. etc.
Another teacher quit this week, the second this year. It’s a hard school to work in, for many reasons.
I’ll work nonstop this weekend, reconciling medical statements (and you know they aren’t all correct), grading papers (and you know they aren’t on level), paying bills, just basically trying to catch up. I’ll do it while holding my breath that I’ll have these next two days to get it all done.
Still, my mind manages me. It tells me what to keep and what to let go.
I deal by looking for the good…
and it presents itself when I call it up.
This week, it came in the form of people. People who knew what to do by giving blood on a random day, by recognizing that sleep matters, by knowing little things mean a lot. And poetry, dear readers, always changes us for the good.
Your week is as challenging as mine, or one day it will be. We all get a turn.
We can always survive by recognizing the gifts as they come. They always come.
I’ll end with this:
One of Sam’s nurses this time turned out to be one of my former students, a third grader from the 90s. It was one of those rewarding moments…seeing that nine year old fast forwarded to working as a successful member of society.
I’ll always remember you because you took this other kid and me for burgers because we read the most books.
I don’t recall the specific instance of doing it, but I’m sure I did. Those were the years we did that a lot.
The thing is, Mollie does recall it. How we treat each other matters. Years down the road. Never doubt it.
It sure is nice to get to know it.