On natural disasters and a confession-

I woke up this morning, put on a pretty pink and off-white dress, Chanel lipstick and headed off to work with a smile on my face. Today will be just magical, I thought. A tea party with my kinders as they recite their dream speeches we've been working so hard on. It's going to go perfectly. I mean, how could it possibly go wrong? Tea parties are always magical!

No no no no. I was absolutely, so so so so horribly wrong. In fact, I could not have been more wrong. Today was a natural disaster. And I stood in the epicenter of it all.

I have this little trouble maker who I'm convinced lives to make life difficult. So far I've endured. I saw it as a challenge, something unpredictable that will keep me on my toes, keep me from growing restless. It's the best part about teaching children, the adventure. But today the walls caved in, around and on me. No. They crushed me. 

                                                        I was crushed. 

                                                                               // I am crushed//

Here goes my humble confession: I stood to the side as my co-teacher scolded the unruly little one. A wind of defeat enveloped me. And I cried.

I turned my back away from a 5 year old and cried.

My co-teacher stood up to comfort me with tissues in hand. "I don't think I can do this anymore. Nothing works. I don't know what to do," were my words.

She sat again. "Oh Keiko, Oh my God. Don't cry. Oh no." *Sigh "Ugh, I don't know anymore..."

I left to retreat in the staff room for my quick break before teaching my next class. I see a face peeking through the door, my co-teacher beckons me out to say goodbye to our Sweet Sophia whose last day was today. I hug her wishing to never let go. I hear a voice.

"She really loves you, you know. She always talks about you. We are so thankful for everything you've taught her. She will miss you. We will miss you. Thank you, thank you." 

I look up with tears in my eyes. It's Sophia's father. 

My heart breaks again.

I woke up today, put on a pretty pink and off-white dress, Chanel lipstick, and a smile. I walked home in a wrinkled dress, my Chanel lipstick had worn off, my eyes flushed, and soul downcast.

Tomorrow I awake to a new day. I start from the beginning. This is teaching. This is life. Every time these little ones break my heart, I learn a bit more about unconditional love. The love of my Abba Father. How many times have I broken His heart and yet He still loves me?

It doesn't surprise me that I, not a children's person, am learning unconditional love from children. No. I'm not surprised at all...

 ((Mothers, parents and teachers of unruly/little ones, any suggestions?

Good books? Articles? Ideas?))