In two days, my daughter, Katie, will take her first tremulous steps into the world of first grade. It’s a big deal–all day school, eating lunch with her friends, real homework–and she’s been a little trepidacious about the whole idea. I guess we both have.
But today, she got a post card in the mail.
My name is Mrs. Albright and I get to be your first grade teacher this year. I’m really excited to meet you. First grade is a lot of fun. I just know you will love it! I’ll see you on Tuesday. Have a great weekend.
I have a good feeling about Mrs. Albright.
There is so much I want to say to this woman who will be taking my place, in a small way, as she spends eight hours of each day teaching, shaping, and molding the child who, until very recently, hung her entire understanding of the world upon my words. Oh, I know it’s a good thing. But I can’t help feeling vulnerable as I contemplate my lovely, fresh-faced child with her sweet, transparent heart stepping out into a sea of other influences. Elizabeth Stone once said, “Making the decision to have a child – it’s momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart walking around outside your body.” And oh, but it hurts sometimes.