So, in the past few posts I’ve bemoaned my dire straights,
Griped about my misadventures and frustrations.
But Tuesday of this week
or maybe it was Monday
I was sitting there
at my reading group table
surveying the activity in my classroom.
At one table: students reading
and talking to an adult about their perceptions.
In tables around the room…
students, reading independently, books
of their own choosing.
because they still struggle with reading…
But they are reading.
And it is noisy.
Then…at my table… students
repeating and reading
most of them dull
but difficult for them
and suddenly I realized
how very good my life is.
I am not homeless or hungry.
I own my own home and don’t have to worry
about where I will sleep tonight
or what I will eat.
My own children have a home and a loving mom
and all of us can read.
It is not a struggle.
Except to find the time.
And I realized that I have the rare good fortune
of being employed
at a job
that I truly love
and which matters…
maybe not to most people in our country…
maybe not to the legislators in my state…
but it certainly matters to the ones I teach
and they show me daily
by laughing with me
by writing me love notes on the backs of spelling papers
by waving to me on the way to school in the morning
by telling me “Miz B, You Rock”
by racing me in book reading,
by doing their best.
They want to please me,
but I want them to have good lives.
Lives that they choose, not that
they are relegated to.
I am deeply grateful…
How very good my life is.