Today, as students were coming into the building and teachers were greeting them, I witnessed the following interaction in the first grade hallway:
A little girl stops in front of her teacher and extends a homemade card. The teacher stoops to the little girl’s level and lavishly praises her beautiful card. The little girl remains silent, shy. The teacher opens the card and reads:
Der Mrs. Ror,
I’m sre for treting you tha way. Will you forgev me? Love, Hannah
The teacher hugs the little girl tight and whispers, “We all make mistakes, it’s okay. I care about you even when you make mistakes. Yes I’ll forgive you.”
And this momma is moved to tears.
The teacher mistakenly believes that I’m upset about the little girl’s behavior and says, “Don’t worry, all of our kids make mistakes.”
I unsuccessfully bat back tears, attempting to keep a bit of composure. How can I tell her that I’m overwhelmed by the grace she just extended to the little girl? How can I tell her that I’m touched by the way she cares more about the little girl than her uncoventional spelling? Most importantly, how can I tell her that I’m not upset over the little girl’s mistakes, but touched by the beauty of her soul?
It was the little girl’s choice to make a card. It was the little girl’s fingers which glued the buttons and drew the flower leaves. It was the little girl who chose the words; the little girl who painstakingly took the time to decide about ending punctuation. All because she wanted to make things right from yesterday.
She chose to write to make things better. She’s six and has learned the power of the written word. The challenge now is to help her always remember this power.
She inspires me to write today in order to make sense of events, in order to understand my feelings, in order to make the world a better place.
May our students also learn the power of writing. Let’s give them as many authentic experiences as possible.
Unhurried. Finding the magic in the middle of living. Capturing a life of ridiculous grace + raw stories.