"What nurtures your soul?" she asks her readers, "Is it the written word, illustrations, painting, music, your kids' creativity, mentoring others, or maybe you like to doodle in work meetings, or color?"
I've been thinking about what I wanted to share today for several days, and when I went to work this morning, it was still in the back of my mind.
Then this happened, and I knew what to write about:
My pre-k students attend class for half a day, three mornings a week. This morning, this sweet boy kept complaining that he was cold (it was not cold in our room). As we were lining up to go to music, he was nearly in tears because he was so cold, so I helped him into his jacket. He melted down shortly after that, saying he didn't feel good, and we called his parents to come and get him.
On the chance that he might be on the verge of throwing up, I took him into a women's restroom that had a chaise lounge in it (and I'm happy to report that he did NOT throw up) and had him lie down while we waited for someone to fetch him. Still complaining that he was cold, I got a blanket from the church nursery and tucked him in, rubbing his back until he fell asleep. And then I sat there with him and listened to him snoring softly.
This is what nurtures my soul. I love these children as if they were my own. They frustrate me and then make me laugh, all within minutes. I watch them as they make mistakes and learn new skills and grow physically and emotionally and spiritually. I see their faces light up when they master a task, watch them test rules and make friends and be silly and be serious. They give me hugs and glares and pictures they made and their colds.
And just as I am with my own kids, I'm forever grateful when they don't throw up on my watch.