There was that little boy, a first grader, who early on took me under his wing at school. It was all done in such a loving and genuine manner. He was the little kid who would come up and just rub my shoulders because he was afraid that my arm and hand were hurting me. I never had to worry about carrying anything because that little guy anticipated what I needed help with long before I knew it. And he did it all, every single day, because he knew that helping his teacher was the right thing to do. I will always remember him and his kindness to me.
Can't forget that sweet little group of first graders who cheered me on the day that I foolishly tried to peel stickers off of a sheet with "old lefty." They were the first ones to witness their teacher crying when I realized just how bad off my lame hand had become. And it was the dearest of them all who cried out to me "Don't give up Mrs. Miller 'cause you can do it!" The smiles on their faces and their encouraging demeanour told me that, heck yes I can do it! And hey guess what? I actually did it!
Wow, can't forget that group of 5th graders that were in my morning reading rotation group who were the witnesses to what I say was a "miracle". They were the ones who sat there in utter amazement when they saw the thumb of "old lefty" finally move for the first time in a long, long time. Didn't matter if it was only a tiny bit of movement....IT MOVED. And I was moved, to tears, by what I FINALLY was able to do. The wonderful thing was, even though tears were streaming down my face with happiness that I finally had "willed" that stupid thumb to do something..not one of those kids laughed at me. In fact, one of them said to me right away, "It's ok Mrs. Miller. Can I get you a kleenix?"
There were always groups of curious kids, ones who wanted to know exactly what was happening to me during the recovery process. They only shuddered once when I showed them the long scar from the surgery and after that they said nothing more. They asked great questions about what had happened and I always told them the truth about things. One thing that this ordeal has taught me is that kids understand way more than we adults ever give them credit for. As has been the case so many times during my 34-year career as a teacher, I have learned much more from them than they at times might have learned from me.
Every single one of them just accepted "the bump" on "old lefty's" wrist as, well, that's just the way it was for their teacher. One story that I never told about "the bump" happened with a 3rd grade math group I was working with. One afternoon I mentioned to them that I felt pretty self-conscious about the way it looked now, the bump. One of the little girls said to me, "I hope no one makes fun of you." And I will surely never forget the comment that one of those dear little kids said next, to me...."Mrs. Miller, if anyone gives you trouble about your bump, then I think you should just draw a face on it and make a little hat for it to wear." (I'm dying laughing here because it was so sweetly and sincerely said by this little guy) He went on to say, "and if anybody makes fun of you or the bump, you have to just let me know." I'm so happy I didn't have to do that.... :)
I drew closer to a couple of young folks who were in the same proverbial "boat" that I was-Darin and Nadonna, my two new friends who broke their arms as well this school year. We cheered one another on as we went through the healing process and I will always have a special place in my heart for them. And I will be sure to remind them, that while it is time for me to return to the "broken arm club" for a while, they are not invited to join me! :) We helped each other in ways that are hard to explain and certainly ways that could not be prescribed by our doctors. Nadonna, Darin and I went through it together and if you HAVE to go through it, there is ALWAYS strength in numbers.
And last, but surely not least, for all of the little kids who helped to remind me of the healing power of the "human touch". For that little tiny girl who, on one of the worst days of this ordeal, reached up and massaged the swollen and badly bruised fingers of "old lefty", I am thankful. For every little one who reached up their hand to hold "old lefty's" hand as we walked down the hall at school.....man, they don't even know what the warmth of their hand in mine did for my "sinking" spirit. And for the sweet and loving hugs I received at school yesterday from some of the "biggest" little kids, Mr. Johnson's 6th grade class, well what can I say? The "get well soon" cards that they made me came from deep within their hearts and that is where the "power of the human touch" really begins in the first place. Friends, once again I have to say...EVERY MORNING I GET UP AND GO TO THE BEST SCHOOL EVER AND DO A JOB THAT I LOVE! Don't know how much more blessed a person could ever be.
Well, it's getting kind of late for me.....5:15 in the a.m. Most of those little guys are still asleep or at least they had BETTER be! I've got to get a "move on" and head out the door in an hour or so. This will probably be my last post for a few days. Then it will back to the days of "one-handed typing", not so much fun, but still the best therapy for my sometimes "sinking spirit". No need to worry about anything guys....everything is going to be "ok". Thank you for your kind thoughts, words, deeds and prayers on my behalf. I know that God is with me and there is no need to fear for anything. It's all taken care of by Him. Have a great day all of you and let's remember to take care of one another.
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