The big events in life are fantastic, of course. And when they happen, I am blown over. Awestruck. But it’s the little things that really get me. Those smallest of events, the little graces. And when something little happens to change the course of my day for the better, I know there is nothing else …
I am steering the van towards after-school destination numero deux in project “My Life as a Chauffer.” A tired Kindergartener rides solo in the backseat, a motley assortment of Foodland bags/backpacks/other odds and ends ride shotgun in the passenger side. And all the while, Veggie Tales blares in the background. One male character says to …
Softly. Flakes fall, seeking for cushion on which to land. Wanting. For lodging. Connection, attachment. In need of that which is found, only in community. Longing to be more than merely that singular one. Searching, in their spiralling descent, for the many. And when that final security of joining the multitude is realized, when that …
It’s little recess. I have maybe nine minutes to run to the washroom, grab a glass of water in the staff kitchen, and check my mailbox in the office. En route, I duck into an adjacent classroom to mine to make a quick phone call to a parent. The call is regarding a preference her …
Solitude. Not loneliness of which I speak. Not isolation, nor seclusion. Neither separation, segregation, emptiness. Rather. The peaceful equilibrium without. That quiet moment spent. In prayer. In supplication, meditation, reflection. In contemplative thought. Tranquil moments that restore the soul within. Returning the body to its truest nature, a relaxed state of being. Reinstating the mind …
Made my evening trek into the school tonight. 9:00 p.m. Kids are safely tucked into their beds, dark load of laundry is in process, house is tidy and relatively clean… therefore it is time to lesson plan! I think my van could drive the well-worn path there and back on auto-pilot, if need be. When …
Little voices, tiny hands. Baby hair still wisps, framing round faces. Wide-eyed. They move, and squirm, roll and tumble. And I try to quiet them, but they are alive with energy. Full of life. We read on the blue rug, I’ll Love You Forever. As I begin to form words on the tongue, I can …
We sit, huddled tightly together in the cramped space of a corner. The blinds are darkly drawn, the door is shut. Locked. Little bodies press in close together to the wall. I place my body as a barrier along the tips of their tiny feet, all the while smiling into anxious children’s eyes and modelling …
We are sitting in circular formation, teaching colleagues, acquaintances and friends. The atmosphere is warm and inviting. Soft lights sparkle on a tree over against the wall. And we wait. In anticipation. Our facilitator directs everyone’s attention to the meeting at hand and then asks us to introduce ourselves. A discussion begins as to what …
Driving down a street in Summerside, P.E.I. today, I realized that the way you drive says a lot about who you are and what you do. For instance, I was idling behind a vehicle driven by a woman who I could just tell was a teacher. We were both lined up at a crosswalk, and …
Ode to Joy. Or as it is written in my daughter’s MYC piano book, “Ode to Spider Fingers.” Which has gotten me wishing for a pair of sticky fingers instead so I could steal away to a deserted island somewhere in the Pacific and empty my mind into a lagoon of salty sea water. If …
Sometimes all the patience is sucked out, like a Hoover that tirelessly lives up to its brand. Or perhaps like my new LG- promising that life will be good when you use the label. But when air is emptied from within, like a sucker punch to the gut, and all patience, understanding, joy and hope …