To Teach

When I hear about school shootings and the like, I always wonder what I would do. I wonder how I would react. In my five years teaching, thankfully, I was never put in a situation where I had to find out.

I wiped noses and tears; I tied shoes and provided clothes; I brought snacks and gave extra where I knew they were needed. I taught reading, writing, and so much more. I missed my kids in the summer, and I still get big hugs when I run into any of them in town (this town or otherwise). Many of them I have kept in touch with; I know how they are and what they’re up to.

Bus in Trees

Being a teacher is a bit of a strange thing. They’re not your children, but it doesn’t take long for them to become yours. I still talk about my twins, and my husband knows just who they are. “My little” with a name following it, and Mr. Gray usually remembers at least which school I’m talking about (which is saying a lot). That’s how much these kids become part of your life when you’re their teacher. 

I am so grateful I was never put in that situation. I pray for peace for all families who have been touched by such tragedy.

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