stars & three squeezes

This morning I went on my first public school field trip.  I was a volunteer for the fourth grade class at the elementary school I work at every single week.  This fourth grade class is full of some of my favorite people in the world.  I woke up this rainy, Friday morning and couldn't wait to spend the day with them.

And to ride a school bus for the first time.

The two fourth grade teachers are wonderful women who respect me and my relationship with these special kids.  They treat me like an adult and authority figure, and we all seem to share a passion for seeing these kids succeed.  Seeing these kids survive.  We see beyond temper tantrums and behavioral disorders.  We see who they will become.  We want to give them a chance.

The kids fought for space beside me on the bus today.  My heart was swollen with pride and love.  As is the norm, it only took me a little while before I became comfortable.  And started bossing people around.  I learned names and teased and hugged.

T fell in line beside me on the way to the bus and slipped his little hand into mine.  I squeezed it three times.  Something my own mama used to do.  He looked at me from under his hood and said, "Miss Anna, why'd you squeeze my hand?"

Before I was able to explain, we had to get on the bus.  He forgot.  And so did I.

We went to the Living Arts and Science Center in the east end of Lexington.  We toured different exhibits about natural habitats and then we went to another room to learn about the stars.  On our hands and knees we crawled into an inflatable planetarium and sat in a circle.  Faintly against the gray tarp we could make out constellations.

I was sitting, legs crossed, with J leaning against my side.  It smelled like dirty socks and my eyes just couldn't adjust to the darkness.  Couldn't seen what was right in front of me.

"Close your eyes for ten seconds," the tour guide told us.  "Close your eyes for ten seconds, and when you open them again, you'll be able to see better."

My heart swelled again.  In those moments, I hear with different ears.  I see with different eyes.  Every small word, every quick phrase, can quickly transform into wisdom and truth.

I covered J's eyes and he covered mine.  We counted to ten.  And when we opened our eyes again, the stars and outlined constellations were bright and evident to both of us.

Just close your eyes... she'd said.  Just close your eyes, just for a few seconds.  And when you open them again, you'll be able to see better.


The eyes of my heart are closed.  Counting to the proverbial "ten".

I want to see better.

-

Back on the bus, I reached over the back of my seat and grabbed T's hand again.

"Remember the squeezes?" I asked him and he began to rub his face with my hand.  "Yes, Miss Anna.  Three squeezes."  I nodded and squeezed his hand three times, while saying "It means, I (squeeze) love (squeeze) you (squeeze)."

"Like this?" He squeezed three times.

"Just like that."

He smiled and curled up in his seat and we started driving home.

Right before we got off the bus, I had my arm resting over the back of the seat.  Quietly, T reached up and slipped his hand into mine.

And squeezed three times.