I didn't become a teacher to be taken care of, but given my most recent life lessons, apparently that's the main reason I am here. But really.
Today after a particularly exhausting and humbling (in so many ways) day I rested my bones on our new set of beanbag chairs (THANK YOU TANYA, JOEL ZACH AND DADDY) and closed my eyes for about ten minutes. I wasn't asleep, but I so badly wished that I was. The day had been full of challenges, I can't even begin to articulate how defeated I felt. However, as I began to open my eyes and regain my composure I noticed that the students who were still in the room were furiously cleaning the classroom, which is normally my job after school.
Makea had swept the floors and wiped down the desks with Lysol wipes, Jose (who I normally have to beg to sharpen pencils) had not only already sharpened the pencils but he had also straightened up all of the desks and collected all of the extra work left over on the tables.
I don't know what really possessed these two seven year olds to take care of me in this way, but in this moment I felt loved by them and by my Maker. Praise Him for the moments that remind me it is not about me.
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