May Day Traditions

      For the past five years or so (I'd have to actually dig out class photos to be certain) two former students who live in my neighborhood have left me a May basket.  The first year it was sweet, as they were in my class, and I thought it was such a darling thing to do.  The following year, it was a sweet surprise.  Over the past few years, I think about these two girls on May day, and fleetingly wonder, "Will they bring me a May basket today?" But, then I get busy with the day and forget until I hear the doorbell.  When I go to the door, there it is, usually a retired Easter basket (I don't know whose) filled to the brim with whatever happens to be blooming in their yards.

May Day 2011

      This year, I was running some errands, and in fact had gone to the farmer's market downtown to purchase a bouquet for myself.  I arrived home and there was this big pink Easter basket, filled to the brim with gorgeous pink blooms from a flowering cherry or plum, scattered little purple and yellow flowers, and several tulips.  The girls added little foil covered chocolate bees in the basket today and a lovely note.

     This little act of kindness and remembrance does wonders for my soul.  This has been a very long year.  I am weary of the daily battle to reach and teach those who don't want to be reached and taught.  I am weary of behaviors that leave everyone feeling ragged and worn.  I am weary of working my fingers to the bone, my mind to the brink of insanity, and the daily efforts to save the lost, who don't care to be saved.  This May Day, I needed my May basket from two girls who reminded me that I made a difference in their lives.
     
     Sometimes I need a reminder that the work I am doing is the work I am meant to do, and that there is a reason I am doing it.  It isn't just for a paycheck, or to become well known or famous.  I am doing the work I do because it's what I do best.  It's work that I find stimulating, engaging, challenging, and sometimes frightening.  I begin each day praying that God will help me be the teacher I need to be for each individual student.  I am challenged each day to make that happen.  It isn't easy, but it's never boring! It's what I love.

     When former students take the time to come visit, or ask to volunteer in my classroom, or remember me with a May basket, it reinforces the rightness of what I do. I am shaping the future, one student at a time. As this is just a little scary to think about,  I'll be praying ceaselessly!