School has begun

Last June, I sorted and packed.

Stacked books to be rebound.

The stacked notebooks had been graded and the grades recorded.

The clutter of the desk would soon be a memory.

Came back for a few brief hours--the custodians had done their job.  I  finished up, took photos, and went home to summer.

August and once again the custodians had visited.  The floor squeaked with wax. 

 The  boxes tipped

with the stacks of rebound books (from the window sill). 

After a few hours of work (newly moved hubby helped),

bulletin boards happily sigh.

Color has returned.

Words and humor spill from one surface.

School spirit erupts from this corner as clippings of games of football, soccer, and volleyball vie

for attention.

The essentials return to the desk, prim and proper,  and wait for the inevitable clutter.

I'm back at school.  It's been 8 days now. The halls resound with laughter and angst.

 Already we have had two students out with mono---one hospitalized.   Their back now, pale and shaky, but
determined to be well.

 Another young man returned with full-fledged rheumatoid arthritis. Just erupted one day this summer.  We teachers have commented that  we've not seen such an advanced case in such short a time.  He walks like he's a crippled 80 year old, but he's 17.  His hands are swollen and misshapen.   The pain in his eyes reach out to me---I know chronic pain, so we talk, and he smiles---even his eyes---for a brief moment.  He was absent today----70% precipitation---I wasn't surprised.

First fight of the year: two girls.  ISS (in-school suspension for 3 days).  Our principal believes in keeping them in school as much as possible---punishing them, but keeping them 'in their books'---not letting them languish at home with their cell phones and TVs.  We teachers are liking this guy.

An eccentric boy yearns for attention, but a warning bell goes off inside of me, and though I don't want to crush a spirit, I sense that my voice needs that warning chill, and I give it.  He's backing off.

Some advanced English juniors slunk out today.  Too many  of them didn't pay attention when I put MY notes on the overhead---MY outline--talked about what I deemed important.  They could copy word for word.  This was after they had taken their own notes, and  I had checked them and handed them back stressing that they would need to pay attention to mine. Those who did got As; those who didn't Fs, with a sprinkling of Ds, Cs, and Bs.  The quiz I had warned them about was given yesterday.  They could use their notes, but not their text books.
Wonder how many will pay attention to MY notes tomorrow?  They might want to know how to take effective notes in college---ya think?

Thus my year unfurls.  I have 2 desk calendars with scripture and prayer.  I spent a summer spending time in
the Word and listening to God.  I feel a difference.  I crawled out of here last year.  I walked tall as I entered
this year.  God whispered in a still small voice and I listened. 

I'm teaching for fun again.  Praise God!

And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your hear. Jeremiah 29:13

The Lord is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him.  Lamentations 3: 25


imperfect prose on thursdays