What a True Teacher Looks Like...

When the Reds began school last September, they did so with confidence: Matthew headed into Grade 2 and Luke marched into Senior Kindergarten a proud "Super Senior!"

 

Lucky Luke was able to begin his year with his previous year's teacher, the newly-married Mrs. O'Connor, so he was a happy boy.

 

Watching Sarah become a Mrs. August 2012

 

 

His mama was happy, too. I am as invested in Mrs. O'Connor's happiness as she is in my children's.

 

That he was able to spend more time in her sphere comforted me, pleased me - Luke is my baby boy, no matter how old he gets and he is does not warm easily to people or experiences that are new. So, another year to grow and spread his wings with a teacher who loves him, well...it made this mama's heart rest easy.

 

Mrs. O'Connor is due to give birth to her first child this weekend, but
she made time to visit her students at their end-of-year celebration, bringing
her own special light and love to the day.

 

When Mrs. O'Connor announced her pregnancy early in 2013, we were all excited for her. She will be an amazing mother - what a joy it will be to watch her welcome her own child into her heart, as she welcomed both of mine.

 

Midway through the year, however, her doctor ordered her off work, which was sad for everyone. But she had assembled a fabulous team in her room,  awesome Early Childhood Educator, Mrs. Wannamaker and  superb Educational Assistant, Mrs. Whalen. Along with brand-new-to-us Mr. Pachecko, this trio kept learning momentum going and Luke continued to thrive.

 

To all four of them, I extend my heartfelt thanks for keeping my boy's smile intact, his spirit free and for filling his mind with all things wise and wondrous.

 

Mr. Pachecko, Luke, Mrs. Wannamaker, Mrs. Whalen

 

 

 

Matthew, meanwhile, bounded into second grade full of bravado. He is normally fearless and headstrong,  but he was emerging from a year fraught with frustration and too many days ending in tears and so I was concerned.

 

 I needn't have worried, for into his life came two AMAZING teachers.

 

I cannot say enough about Ms. Sabean and Mr. Hartnell - a dynamic duo who made learning fun, who engaged and cheered Matthew throughout this year, whose dedication to and pride in their students I witnessed every. single. day.

 

Matthew's First Communion: Ms. Sabean, M. Hartnell

 

 

 Matthew was barely reading when school started last September, but buoyed by success found in a summer reading program at the school, he was eager to learn. His teachers encouraged him all year long and now, my boy is devouring chapter books and weaving incredible tales of his own.

 

The ability to read is such an enormous pleasure and while I am a lover of words and stories, I was not great about reading nightly with Matthew and was even worse at sitting down to fill out his book logs. But his teachers persevered - with him AND with me - and together, we gave birth to a reader.

 

My pride and delight in all that he has accomplished this year is surpassed only by theirs for him and for that, especially, I am grateful.

 

 

***

 

It is a wondrous gift, to a parent, to know that their child is safe and happy and loved by his teachers.

 

 On this, the last day of school for the year 2013, this is my thank you to them, these incredible teachers, who've guided and cajoled and encouraged my sons to grow and reach and surpass their own potential.

 

With much love,

Matthew and Luke's Mama

 

P.S. The rest of your "thank-you" gifts are courtesy of the LCBO.

Cheers, all - you've earned it!

With My Heart in Their Hands...

Tomorrow is my last day of my last study placement as a Developmental Services Worker student. For the past 12 weeks, I have been supporting 9 adults with disabilities, all of whom live together in a local group home.

12 weeks ago, as I rang the bell of the large house for the first time, I thought I'd pee my pants, I was so nervous. I had no idea how these incredible men and women - some who walk, some who talk, some who do neither - would etch their way onto my heart the way they have.

.I can only hope that I have touched theirs in some small way and that they will somehow carry my gratitude with them always. For as much as I helped them to eat, to walk, to sit, to bathe, to sign, to scoot, to smile....the lessons learned have all been mine.

By holding another's heart in my hands, I must also be willing to offer them my own.

"Heart in Hand"
Courtesy of Pinterest

This is what that looks like, 12 weeks later:



Dear F,

Every day you asked me, "Will you be here tomorrow?" in a way that made me feel as though you hoped I would. Every day you made me smile. Thank you for your warmth, sharing the moments
you remember the best and for making me feel welcome in your home.


Dear J,

Sweet J. How I shall miss your mischievous smile - the one that made your eyes dance even as you danced just out of reach on your way to wreak havoc somewhere in the house. In your wake, I either laughed or wanted to cry, there was never any other way to feel and for all of it, I am grateful. For you, especially, I wish for peace and love.


Dear V,

Of everyone I've ever met, no one has ever been as happy to ride in the car as me...until you. Thank you for getting it. Thank you, too, for reaching for my hand and silently guiding me  to the next room so we could throw Lego undisturbed and for laughing so hard we both cried.

Dear R,

Yours was the smile I worked hardest to earn and when I finally did, it was like watching the sun come out on your face. I will never forget it...or you. Thank you for such beauty and for trusting me enough to lean.

Dear MB,

Thank you for teaching me the gentle art of helping someone bathe and dress, without uttering a single word. Thank you for your trust and the way your eyes never leave mine when I'm helping you and for reaching out to wrap me in spontaneous hugs. That first one surprised but delighted me and filled my eyes and my heart in equal measure.

Dear MC,

You are the voice of hilarious reason and the person I want to sit beside, always. Thank you for your grouchy honesty about your life, your home and for offering such candid opinions about my hair and my cardigan collection. Thank you for dancing as though no one was watching and for trusting me to make your coffee, your bed and your day, when I could.

Dear B,
It is impossible to know you and not love you, B. You are sunshine and open arms. Thank you for singing harmony, allowing me to learn some pretty cool medical stuff as your support person and finding the joy in being alive, for every moment of every day.

Dear L,
Thank you for resting yourself against me, letting me sit with you in companionable silence for long, lovely stretches each morning. Thank you for saying that I'm beautiful. I hope I told you often enough that you are one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever met. Oh and "I. said....NO!" Ha ha ha!

Dear G,

For moments of understanding, silence and absolute grace, I am so grateful. Thank you for all of them and for being you. From you, I learned the most important lessons of all:

Be still.
Listen.
Wait.
Love.



With all of mine,
Elizabeth

Strings of Light...

We don't hang lights here at the House of Leprechauns, for a number of reasons, all of which boil down to the same thing: we're lazy.

Thankfully, other people here in the Friendly City have been very busy picking up our seasonal slack:

 Just this afternoon, walking to pick up the boys, I saw that many of my neighbours have begun stringing lights and arranging ginormous blow-up Santas on their (still-green) lawns.

Wreaths adorn their front door and complicated-looking planters filled with cones and what looks like pussy willows (that can't be right, can it?) flank their tidy walkways. Even the hot single fireman down the road has  placed tiny, perfect single "candles" in every window of his house.

It makes me happy, this abundant joy that so many have for the season, despite the fact that there's not a drop of snow in the forecast and I that  heard the distinctly "summer" sound of a lawnmower as I strolled along.

Earlier this evening, I drove through a Spring-like fog on my way to school for a group project. Part of my route takes me through an area of town that's a little bit...sad. It's an odd combination of industrial units and forgotten residential streets and normally, there are no homes that draw my admiring gaze or porch-envy. Most don't draw my gaze at all.

Until tonight. Tonight, nestled in the soft fog hovering atop a deserted street, I blinked it surprised wonder at an otherwise unremarkable white two-story house on a corner.

The industrious and Christmas-loving folks who live there have used old-fashioned lights - small, brilliant, rainbow-hued colours - against faded white boards to transform a house that no one ever truly sees, into the happiest house on the block. Possibly the happiest house in the city, so far.

Seriously.

No icicles or rectangular patches of colour tossed hurriedly 'round a bush for these folks. Nope.
Instead, with what I can only assume was painstaking patience (or a LOT of coffee in their Baileys)  the Christmas Family (as I have now officially dubbed them, in my head)  strung miles of lights  PERFECTLY around the house, tracing its lines  from top to bottom, curling around the corners, edging the windows, along the eaves troughs.

In a word? Awesome.

Sadly, I don't have a photo to share because, well, I suck that way. But the Christmas Family? They sure don't. In fact, they've made me so happy, I've penned them a little thank-you card and will pop it into their mailbox on Friday morning.

At the end of a long and tiring day, your Christmas lights

 have brightened my heart

and lifted my flagging spirits.

Thank you for decorating with such care and for

showing all of us 

how bright the spirit of the season can be.

 

Love,

A Fellow Bellevillian

 

 

This is not the house I saw, but it's awesome, too.
This one belongs to some friends of mine
who create this joyful masterpiece every year.
Thanks, Kay Family!

 

And you?

Is there a Christmas Family in your world?

When do you start decorating for the holidays?