Gratitude

I just had a sweet experience.  One of my primary students just knocked on my door with a handmade note telling me he was thankful for having had me as his teacher this past year.  He started to cry when I told him he would be missed in my class.  His mom and I teared up as well.  Man does it ever feel good to be appreciated!  I seem to have forgotten what that feels like.

Then, just now, I started musing about my own boys when they were young.  About a time when I revealed to Big Boy the truth about St Nicholas.  I was the teller of this secret to my son because he was getting to be an age where kids at school might tease his sweet believing soul.  He looked up at me and instead of the feeling of betrayal most kids might feel his was an expression of thanks.  "All that time it was you?" he said in amazement.  "Yep- I am Santa's helper" said I.  "Gee, Mom- THANKS!" was what came next out of his mouth, and then lots of questions about how on earth we could afford it.  Typical first child worries.

I need to remember that sweet guy in there.  I know he is still in there somewhere underneath all the hormones.  I'm glad my primary student came by today to remind me...