This summer has been the most magical one of my life. From start to finish, miracles just keep unfolding. It’s one such an event I must share. God works in mysterious ways sometimes, but then once in awhile, he just hits us with a pintsized whirlwind named Dahlia.
I know I whine way too much about the second sprinkler system. Golly gosh darn, it’s an amazing blessing that I have a second system, working or not. As you know, mine hasn’t been working. Mr. B, who does all the heavy gardening around here, called to tell me he would come Saturday with an assistant to install new solenoids and get things wet again! For his help, I’m always grateful.
Saturday’s weather was the nicest in quite a few weeks. Even though we’re still in the middle of summer, that morning felt like a kiss of autumn. A light breeze had cooled things off and I was excited that Mr. B would have decent working conditions. However, he soon texted to tell me would come to work in the late afternoon. By then, the summer heat was blazing.
When he arrived, at first glance, I thought he had brought his mom. A little person sat on the passenger side, quietly looking straight ahead. When I looked closer, I realized the person was a Little.
“This is my daughter. Dahlia.”
Again, my eyesight isn’t the best when changing from bright sunshine to the shadowy interior of a pickup. But, yes, there she was. A big girl with a mane of long, auburn hair. She turned and smiled a school girl smile revealing her age by missing teeth and their replacements at different stages of growth.
“Where are you teaching,” Mr. B asked.
When I answered, father and daughter both gasped.
It seemed that Dahlia had just finished 1st grade in Mrs. Smith’s class in Room 13 on the 1st Grade hallway at MY new school. She was the first person I’ve meant who could answer all the questions I would never ask an adult co-worker. I’d get the goods on my new school from one of their very own students!
Sprinklers AND a SPY!!!!! All for the price of one! It was my lucky day. Little did I know that another heart-friend just walked into my life. A pint sized tornado of energy. The one and only Miss Dahlia herself had arrived.
Bouncing out of the truck, she was in the back yard, quick as a cricket. She bubbled. She giggled. Energetic and spunky, she was ready to Spill the Tea and answer any questions burning holes in my brain. She’d paint a detailed and vibrant verbal mural of my new school. For the next two hours, I listened with my ears, brain, and heart to some precise details.
Dahlia is a writer. Of course, GOD would send me a writer. Dahlia is tops in her class. She wants to teach “high school something” when she grows up. She loves her guinea pigs. Most importantly. SHE LOVES SCHOOL MOST OF ALL!!! She told me so.
Dahlia should be on every single news show there is, because Dahlia is the very reason I could pop with excitement. She is a normal, every day little girl who loves to learn and loves the teacher that will help her. She is positive and truthful. Watching every detail, she wants to do things just right. She is one of the nicest humans God ever created, because she is 7 years old.
The littles in my town need me, because they are at the age in a love our hate for school will start to develop. It’s my job to give them the very best I have to offer without any politicized nonsense. It’s my great privilege to teach them to read, add, subtract and multiply. Yes. First graders know their multiplication facts. Dahlia told me. Then, she showed me.
For two hours, I was enchanted. I have a new friend at my school. She will find me on days when no one knows I’m scared, tired, and just plain freaked out. She’ll sniff me out like a hound dog finds a bone, and come give me a hug. Yes, kids still hug their teachers when needed. It’s one of the benefits of the job. She’ll spread the word to the kids at summer school. “This Mrs. Hurt. She’s a good one.”
Dahlia told me about the breakfast routine (eaten in the classroom), the lunch lines (orderly), the cafeteria food (delicious), and the playground rules(to be respected). She told me of some tough hombres that will be in my class (kids do grow out of stages, don’t they?). She cringed when she divulged that some students call the teacher bad words in class (They’ll learn not to do that, no problem at all). Every once in awhile, she’d just let out the most adorable little fact. “I JUST LOVE SCHOOL!”
I don’t really know the details of the sprinkler system repair. I guess it is working. I have new solenoids and it looks lovely out there. I paid Mr. B for his fabulous work. I set up a big work day sometime in the next two weeks in which he will give Winterpast her much needed late-summer spruce up. He’s going to handle my leaves this fall. Quite frankly, I just won’t have enough time. With over 30 deciduous trees, the leaves of Winterpast are intense. This year, my yard will look beautiful every day when I come home from work.
Dahlia. What a gal! God could have sent me a shy “Kyle”, glued to Dad’s side while he worked. But HE didn’t. He sent me just the person with which I needed to converse. Mrs. Dahlia B.
After two hours, my brain was FRIED.
Dahlia x 20 in my class = Mrs. Hurt had better be ready.
What on earth was I thinking???? I’m starting my vitamin regimen this very day. I’m going to start freezing dinners, because my first weeks are going to be overwhelming. I think I’ll be crying a lot at night. But, rest assured I’ll save those tears for my pillow.
Find a Dahlia to fill you in on the details of real school. Quit watching the TV nonsense. Dahlia would tell you that a 1st Grader pounds out syllables to music. They read stories with their teacher. They sit on the rug Criss Cross Applesauce during carpet time. They have real cubbies for their things. They listen and they learn. If they listen very carefully, they’ll be reading chapter books and multiplying just like Dahlia.
A+, Mr. B. Well done, Dad. Bring Dahlia along anytime. She and I have a lot more to talk about.
More tomorrow.