Our only grandchild graduated from our church’s preschool program this past Sunday evening. It was only yesterday that his Mommy had graduated from kindergarten. It was deja vu times two.
Each class did a little skit in their ‘civies’ clothes first. They sang their favorite songs they’d learned with their teachers during the school year. The teacher of each class sat in front of the platform in a school chair while their little charges performed so that they could mouth the words and lead the choreography for those who were too excited or too shy to be able to remember their little ditties.
The bows were resplendent and plentiful in the little girls’ hair. My grandson, with his eight-or-so cowlicks, was almost unrecognizable with his carefully styled hair. All the little faces were fresh and bright; their happy eyes sparkled as they shared so eagerly and proudly what they’d learned, their focus all on their teacher.
After the entertainment, these tiny scholars donned their white caps and gowns and re-entered the sanctuary, walking the aisle to the de rigueur Pomp and Circumstance. Again, each teacher led her small charges through the traditional claiming of the diploma, retiring afterward with her respective class to make way for the next teacher and her group. As their name was called by their teacher, each small body crossed the stage and was awarded the afore mentioned diploma. Teacher changed their tassel, then guided each one as they shifted to the microphone to say their own name in full. Again, all focus on Teacher.
All of the teachers were proud of their wee humans and some were visibly moved as they absorbed, once again, the fact that another set of lives had passed through her class, her training, and her heart. Then each little soul bashfully or joyfully turned their attention and their face from Teacher, stomped off the platform and into the future.
My grand baby’s teacher was one of those who was visibly moved. Our grandson will remember his teacher. He adores her. She has an energy which she gives to her students that can only be fueled by the love of children and the joy of working with that which you love. She made his year of learning fun and exciting and adventurous.
We are grateful that his relationship with his teacher will not end now that his time under her tutelage at preschool has spent itself. She teaches him at church. He sits with her on Sunday mornings while we sing in choir. I truly am grateful. Too many times the ones who have helped us to train and to mold who and what our wee ones will become are lost in the fog of the past.
Take a moment and ask a special blessing for those who had a part in shaping you. They left pieces of themselves in our makeup, whether we realize it or not. We stomped off into our futures never seeing or realizing the joy/sorrow our teachers knew as they watched us go.
I am asking a special blessing for all the fine teachers of our preschool and especially for the two teachers who gave our grand baby two wonderful years to build upon. This foundation is set. It is HIS foundation for the rest of his life, whether he realizes it or not.
I think that I’ll try to see to it that he does realize it and that he is aware of the two hearts he’s left behind.