This morning I had the
The school arranged for SpongeBob, balloons, tunes on a synthesizer and candy. I tried to keep all of that out of my class. I only needed some quiet enthusiasm and time to teach. Alhumdulillah they were participating immediately---except for the one guy who fell asleep (there's always one).
Right now, I gave a call to my big boy. Tomorrow Mr. Boo's brother leaves for college. Mashallah, that boy applied with 32,000 others and only 3,000 were allowed in. Mr. Boo might be my heart but that big boy of mine was my soul.
I absolutely poured myself into him. I made him into the ultimate project. I read to him in both English and Spanish, danced and drummed to world beats, took him to art, history and science museums and watched Mr. Rogers together with him. I felt that I had a chance to create an amazing child.
In many ways, that
I called him but he didn't answer. That's never easy. I left one of those rambling mom messages. I ended up close to tears---silly me.
"Do you remember," I asked my big boy, "when I walked you to kindergarten for the first time? I had made chalk pictures on the sidewalk the whole way there for you to see."
"I can't do that this time on your way to college," and I imagined the route through four states and chalk art heading down the interstate.
"But," I added, "if I could then I would."
I finished the call before I lost it.
There wasn't any SpongeBob or balloons. Yet, I know that my
May Allah protect all the children starting school this year and reward the teachers who work diligently for their benefit.