1) I've given up on correcting "Mrs." into "Miss." If you find out a solution that gets through to your students let me know.
2) Second grade soccer is a sight to behold.
3) At times, seminary saps all from my heart as I fill my head. Thankfully, I realized that, in a rather timely way, on a little soccer field...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kelsey was inconsolable. It all started with an accidental bump that sent her sprawling on the blacktop and, in typical second grade style, she assumed the worst and with her tiny fists pummeled back on the surprised Charlie.
After a considerable time-out I could still detect sniffles coming from the sidelines…a red-faced, but now subdued Kelsey sat cross-legged in the grass, picking at her shoelaces.
I joined her on the grass, keeping a careful eye on the hoard of second graders descending upon a pint-sized soccer ball.
“My parents don’t love me,” was all she said before dissolving into tears once again.
Oh Lord, that was not what I was expecting.
As she poured out her little broken heart I struggled to find words of comfort…while also tweeting my whistle at an aggressive Brad kicking more than just the soccer ball…oh, and there’s Katie gathering acorns on the far side of the field. ..and, oh gosh, Zach is absent mindedly picking his nose.
*sigh*
How do I explain to this seven-year-old the delicate world of sibling rivalry? How do I reassure her that her parents do love her and her big sister equally? How do I validate her feelings while maintaining her parent’s authority? There are so many facets to that one little phrase she first uttered…how do I even begin to explain it all? And, will she even remember this gut-wrenching sorrow at this same time tomorrow?
Each sob was like a brick dropping on my heart
Oh.
Inwardly I slapped my forehead. Sometimes I am such an idiot...this child doesn't need a lecture!
“Kelsey.”
I waited for another pause in the sobs.
“Kelsey.”
I put my arm around her slumped shoulders.
“Kelsey, I want to tell you something.”
Watery eyes looked up at me, expectant and incredulous all at once. My gosh, I’d forgotten the depth of a seven-year-old’s soul.
“I know your parents love you very much, even if you feel like they don’t…sometimes parents have a hard time remembering that they need to tell you.”
She nodded knowingly.
“So, I want to remind you that I love you very much and I am very glad you are in my class. It makes me so happy to see you every week for P.E. and I would be very sad if you weren’t here…ok?”
I meant every single word. And the transformation was incredible. Eyes dry, a smile on her face, Kelsey returned the hug.
We stood up as I blew my whistle, sending her classmates careening towards the school entrance.
“Are you ready to go home?”
She nodded, grinning broadly. “Yes, Mrs. Arkin.” One last hug and she ran to join her classmates.
Wow. That was all she needed. Here I am, Miss Arkin...the grown-up...the teacher...the seminarian...and I almost forgot the most important thing of all....
Telling my students that I love them.
I will always have much to learn...
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