Something wonderful just happened and I want to talk about it. I
I aspire to be a writer, but I know that there are no words I can find to express just how I feel.
Every year, our 8th graders vote on two teachers to whom the school yearbook will be dedicated.
I've written before (here and here) about just how much I love this 8th grade class. As individuals and as a group, they are unusually sweet, fun, and talented. They have left an enormous imprint on my spirit and healed my heart. Together for three years now, we have laughed and cried and laughed and grown.
If you have taught you know how deep and how beautiful the love can be between a teacher and students. If you haven't, then I don't know how to describe it. When it all works, then there is a profound connection that you feel soul-to-soul.
I dedicated my book to the Class of 2010 because I love them so much.
Well, they dedicated the yearbook to me. Today was the assembly where they announced it. They wrote and read a sweet little ode to me (Note: the dedication picture is of me during our fall play this year, Cats. If you wonder how a highly respectable almost-middle-aged-man came to be in cat makeup publicly, you can click here and scroll down.)
It would be an honor to be chosen on any occasion, but to be chosen by this group is immensely satisfying to me. It caps off a really wonderful year.
I'll write more about this later because there are actually some interesting theological points that occur to me. But right now, I just want to savor it.
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Thoughts about raising and teaching adolescents. You can read the complete series here. (What in the world are Middle School Mondays?) Click here.
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Please don't steal my words! Whatever I lack as a writer, it's still one of the few skills I have.
If you foolishly disregard this warning, I will send this guy after you. He's 6' 6".