I had every reason to be nervous as I pulled into school yesterday for the 6th grade "Mother's Day Honoring Ceremony."
I kept remembering another time I was honored by Nathan's class for Mother's Day. It was second grade, and each child drew a portrait of his or her mom.
I should probably just stop right now. I should just let you gaze on my son's artistic representation of his mom. A maniacal, burning coal stomping, cave woman.
I knew it was me the minute I entered the room. The black shirt, the gold necklace, the wedding rings, even the shoes. I could see how, in Nathan's mind, it looked just like me. The clincher was the smoldering coal at my feet. Back in second grade, Nathan loved stuff like that.
Nudging my friend, I said, "That one's me."
"No, it couldn't be," she whispered.
"Oh, it's me for sure."
I was right.
So approaching Nathan's room yesterday, I had reason for concern. I'd already gathered that this year, the children would read poems each child had written honoring his or her mom.
I kept telling myself, "The teacher helped them write. The teacher is my friend. She would have helped them edit out anything embarrassing or inappropriate." I had a sick feeling Nathan might write something like, "My mom really gets irritated when my Dad. . ." You just never know.
Then, the teacher made a speech.
Then, the teacher made a speech.
"The poems your children are about to read are totally their own work. I didn't even read them. Just like you, I will be hearing them for the first time today."
I felt sicker.
In the end, Nathan's poem was very sweet, very appropriate and not embarrassing at all. Sigh of relief. Bullet dodged. I felt honored. Here we are after the ceremony.
Back to that Mother's Day, four years ago -- the saving grace of the day was that after Nathan's party was over, I went down the hall to Julia's party. Five-year-old Julia had drawn a picture of me as well.
Now, that's more like it!
Happy Mother's Day to all!
O.K. Dana... This is the sixth grade teacher that adores you and Nathan with her whole heart and I remember that portrait as well. I was there. I would have posted my own portrait drawn by an equally gifted second grade artist, but it is tucked away in a memory box. For the record, I did peruse the poems but mostly to assist those students who were struggling with a few of the prompts. As a "Top Secret Writing Assignment," I would not be able to enlist the help of the sixth grade homeschool moms. However, that being said, I did offer a rather lengthy lecture involving the fact that this was a poem to "HONOR" their amazing mothers with whom God had blessed them. I even gave a "lecturette" consisting of references of mothers struggling to rise from bed with only a few hours sleep several times a night to feed their hungry bundles of joy often involving a much needed "change" at 3:00 am. I may have mentioned that this might have gone on for weeks, even months. In an effort to meet the needs of our beautiful adopted students, I mentioned the innumerable tender prayers and hours of air travel in an effort to seek, reach, and finally hold their much anticipated Gift from God. Armed with the knowledge that their mother's had sacrificed so, the students embarked on their poem construction journey. Thus, I felt assured that their poems would reflect a love, adoration, and respect that they all did indeed reveal. I was blessed by Nathan's poem, but I know you were the one who ultimately saw the fruits of your labor and the evidence of a heart that adores his amazing mom. I love you Dana Ball and I KNOW that Nathan's crazy about his coal stomping mom! Were those fiery darts coming from your right hand?
ReplyDeleteThat's great that you know your children well enough to determine which pictures were you. Happy Mother's Day!
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