Forgiveness is part of the treasure you need
To craft your falcon wings
To your true realm of
Divine freedom. – Hafiz
Monday begins in confusion. I visit a second grade classroom, but when I sign in at the office I can’t remember the name of the teacher. This is not good.
Once I refer to my notebook and am escorted to her room I am back on track. I watch seven-year-olds read rulers to one-half inch and remember how tricky that concept is to teach. The teacher is doing a good job.
After she takes the students to PE, we talk. All goes well. Until it’s time for me to leave. I retrace my steps to the office and immediately get lost. (This is a rambling, many winged church school) The speech teacher walks me halfway.
What is this? Do I need stronger coffee? (I’m now drinking half decaffinated) Is this the beginning of the end? As I’m driving home I remember how frustrated I would get with my mother’s forgetfulness. Why couldn’t she keep up? I’m sorry, Mom. I’m beginning to get it.
P.S. I check email when I get home and find an invitation from my best friend to go see a local production of Driving Miss Daisy this weekend. That sounds appropriate.