Wednesday

After a slow start yesterday, today I made loads of progress in my classroom. I moved furniture, which as every teacher knows is a task fraught with all kinds of implications. You have to think about how the room will be used, while at the same time being sure not to create areas where kids can get into trouble and you can't see them. You need them to have access to what they need, without having access to what they don't. And then, of course, there was the added complication of the bizarre items I kept finding: finger splints, a syringe, a gauze bandage, a set of scrubs (top size 3X, bottom size S), and some other things whose use I could not even guess. When I went prowling around looking for some of my missing belongings (more on that later), I found crutches and prosthetic legs.

After the earthquake, when I was in the States and heard that our secondary building was going to be occupied by soldiers and that the classrooms were being cleaned out, I asked my husband to be sure to rescue some of my belongings. He had someone pack the things up, and then that box was promptly lost/discarded/stolen. I knew about this months ago, and had let it go without too much difficulty. But today, for some reason, these items began to seem extremely important to me. I'm not proud of this. It's just stuff. With all the stories I have heard this week of suffering and loss, how could I worry about my few insignificant possessions? I think I'm past it now - I had my moment. But isn't it interesting how what we don't have any more suddenly seems so precious? What a reminder to cherish people, particularly, when we have them, but also to enjoy the things that God has allowed us to have for now. None of it is permanent.

Speaking of things God has allowed us to have, I was so happy to sort through my books today. My classroom library looks a bit the worse for wear. I'm not sure if it's because of all the tossing about the books have undergone in the last six months or if they just look shabbier to me because I've just been in the Land o' Plenty, where everything is shiny and new-looking. It didn't matter, though; the books are like old friends. I look forward to introducing these books to kids this year.

It is wonderful to see my husband and son together; they have been inseparable since my husband joined us in June. I didn't write much during the last six months about the miseries of parenting by myself, mostly because I was trying to protect my children's privacy. But I'll just say that my son, who is seven, needs his dad. Right now they are playing chess. It's a beautiful thing.