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On the Last Day of School
Father,
A quiet tension fills the room
on this last day of school even if I'm teaching virtually.
I expected exuberance and rowdiness, but that came yesterday
when we had our last online meeting.
Today the children are disturbingly subdued.
I am embarrassed at my own emotions;
I cannot look at the children directly.
The room is so blank.
Our desks are cleaned out.
The last traces of our last day at school in March have been swept away.
The charts and posters are down for the summer.
So now we sit quietly,
waiting for the students and their families to come to the drive-thru parade.
I expect to see these children again, of course,
but it won't be the same.
They know it,
and I know it.
They will come around to see me,
jealous of the new class,
and I will look at a room of little strangers
and miss the familiar faces.
In time
the strangers will become friends.
But every class is different and special;
no new group of children will ever take the place
of the one leaving me today.
Lord,
I have worked hard,
and I have loved these children dearly.
In investing in their future
I have cast my bread upon the waters,
content that I will find it after many days.
Lord, I commend them into your hands.
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