Like many, I spent much of my weekend praying for families whom I don’t even know. I prayed that those people, those young babies, feel God’s embrace to make up for the terrible way in which they left our world. I prayed that their families will someday find peace. I stopped watching the news. I don’t want to argue about gun control. I am choosing to fill my part of the world with hope, love and prayer. Who knows, maybe it will catch on.
And today, as I send my own children to a place where I’ve always hoped (assumed) they were safe from the terrors our world sometimes holds, today I thank the people who stand in for me when I can’t be there.
I thank their teachers.
I thank you for listening to my child, for reaching out to him and for greeting him with a smile each day. I thank you for watching out for my child, for stretching her mind, for challenging her. I thank you for dealing with a classroom full of children when I seldom have enough patience for just three. I thank you for your hugs, your sincere concerns and your daily guidance.
When you decided to become a teacher you probably assumed that you’d be healing hurts with a hug and a bandage. That you’d be protecting children from bullies. That you’d be providing a safe haven for children who need a refuge from their everyday life.
You probably never realized that you might have to heal, protect and provide safety by guarding my children with your life. Yet you would.
And I thank you.