Life in the shoes of a Nursery School Teacher

My life seems to be full of so many important responsibilities and here's another one. I've spent every Sunday of the last 9 months as a Nursery School Teacher to infants through 4 year-olds. Children are so important to me, it's a job I love and value. Here's a little day in my life :)

It’s that time of year where I find myself saying more goodbyes than hellos. It’s the dark chocolate ending to a milk chocolate year, bittersweet. Sitting in church today near all of my girls I think about how great it will be to have children of my own when that time comes. I already think of Maclean and Jimin and Penny and Ella as my own children and in a way I am a parent figure to them. I care for them every Sunday, I teach them right from wrong and I encourage and love them. As pastor John finishes up children’s church I feel as if I am about to tear up. Maclean presents me with daisies and a card, a contribution from all of the kids and parents for the work I have done for them this school year. This is something I will miss over the next three months. We start out Sunday school with a treat this week, one of the older women comes in and leads us in songs about loving Christ and loving our mothers, it is mother’s day after all. Maclean sits next to me and rubs my leg, we’re both wearing tights (mine are actually nylons) and she likes the feeling of mine. Penny and Ella aren’t here today so it’s just Maclean, Jimin and I. We plant petunias in little ceramic pots that we decorate for our mommy’s for mother’s day. This is Maclean’s first time planting a flower and I feel honored to be the one to help her. Jimin has grown up so much in just a few short months; she’s pulling herself up with the help of chairs and standing. I can’t believe I’ll miss her first steps. I watch her as her mother leaves to go to the bathroom and she automatically starts crying. As is usual, her mother rushes back from the bathroom to soothe her, reminding me once again of the cultural differences in caring for an infant. Of course I’m not a parent yet but I do believe in the merit of helping a child learn to handle separation rather than running to their every beck and call. In no time Maclean is pulling out book after book and begging to sit in my lap and read them. For as long as I’ve known her her favorite books have been the ones about David and Goliath, Jonah and the Whale, Noah’s ark, Elijah, and other Bible stories. Today we read David and Goliath twice, and she is as inquisitive as ever. She asks me to explain why David killed Goliath, what an army base means, why David is the only soldier not afraid of the giant. She asks me to explain why Jonah ran from God, and why he decides to go back and do ask God asked of him. She points to the men in the book and asks which one is God, I try to explain to her that God cannot be seen, he’s simply someone you have to feel, and before I can add more she proclaims “God is in our heart.” She’s right, of course. All too soon my time with her and Jimin is coming to a close. She doesn’t sense that I will be gone for months; I can only hope she’ll remember me when I return.

My mind constantly comes back to Children and Family Services. The experiences Maclean, Jimin, Penny and Ella are experiencing as children are ones every child should have a right to, and yet ones that many children are robbed of. It’s sad to even have to contemplate the idea that many children worldwide are being neglected, sexually abused, malnourished, developmentally retarded from their environmental situations and the like. This is the most important time for a child to feel love and encouragement from their parents and parental figures, to be able to trust and feel security. I can’t help but deeply admire the work of the CFS, making house calls to investigate reports of child neglect and abuse, working so hard to keep children in their homes unless it is too dangerous. This is something I can see myself doing, a corporation I would love to intern with.

As I get ready to leave the church, Maclean asks me one last time what color my school is. Lately, the color of everyone’s house and school is extremely important to her. I tell her and then try to explain to her what primary colors are, and which colors are primary. She doesn’t understand it completely yet. Maybe we can pick up where we left off next year, maybe in August I’ll still be teaching her primary colors.