I have this priceless item - the word JOY hot-glued to a broken popsicle stick - and I recently took it into Michael's to have it matted and framed. Accordingly, I needed to explain the purpose of framing a few pieces of silver cardboard letters stuck to a broken popsicle stick, and from the attendant's response... I felt like I should share this story with the world.
"Miss Thornton, my mom and I made this for you from my craft box last night. I thought you would like those letters."
Let me paint a brief portrait of my life in Fall 2011...
I didn't like my job.
I loved my students, I loved teaching, and I still love education, but back then, I was ready for a change before the school year even started.
My cortisol levels were extremely high (and unknowingly, my platelet counts were dangerously low).
Before the school year started, I felt deep compassion for my upcoming students, but I found out quickly that the burdens they carried in their mere 6 years of life were heavy. And I felt them. Literally, physically, I felt them, and I carried them. My team of teachers had already put a restraining order on a drunk, irate dad at Meet the Teacher Night, many of our staff members didn't get along, I felt misunderstood and misperceived as a team leader, and to top it off, I began the school year with a severe case of Epstein Barr Virus, unaware that I had it. Relationally, I was stressed and confused about the future with my on-again-off-again long-distance boyfriend, and I was losing weight at an unusual, unhealthy, rapid pace.
My school was a revolving door, kids in for 5 weeks and out just as soon as they adjusted to our routines. I had the group of kids who made our P. E. teacher say after the first week of school, "Wow, Miss Thornton... your class....whoa." Yep. Probably the most loving, RAMBUNCTIOUS group of kiddos I've ever known.
One night before bed, only about 3 or 4 weeks after school started, I prayed for joy. I asked God simply that I would wake up with joy. I asked for nothing else. I didn't feel it when I woke up, and instead I felt heavy. So I asked God for joy the entire way to school. "Joy, just joy today, please. no depression. no darkness. no sadness. no shame. just simply... JOY. i need it." I felt like my world was swirling down into a dark pit, and it was, and I needed the lightweight release of joy.
The kids were following their morning routine as they one-by-one entered the classroom, and one of the last to enter was
Gabriel.
Gabriel's family had nothing. N o t h i n g. His precious momma told me they were on food stamps, and they may not be able to stay in the area for much longer. Gabriel was the oldest of 3 siblings, and he was one of the calmest and sweetest students I've ever had. He carried a presence of peace with him. When he entered the classroom this day, he walked up to me and handed me this:
"Miss Thornton, my mom and I made this for you from my craft box last night. I thought you would like those letters."
Yes Gabriel, I not only like them... I love them. They are perfect.
Sweet Pea will never know how much this gift meant to me. It is frame-worthy, in my opinion. Three letters, hot-glued to a broken popsicle stick, on the right day, at the right time, first thing in the morning.
Gabriel's family moved before I recovered from my illness, so I only had him for the first 6 weeks of the school year. What an impact his simple gift made. I cherish it - it has been displayed in each of my classrooms since.
No matter how chaotic life is, no matter how depressed the feelings are, no matter how stressful work is, no matter how many people have misperceived your good intentions, no matter how fleeting time seems and and how hopeless circumstances look -
you are remembered. you are loved. you are heard.
Joy comes in many forms. Expect it everyday; it's there to receive.
I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.
John 10:10
