A Prayer

This is a post I wrote last year. The sentiments still hold true, only the grade level has changed. 

My prayer the night before a new school year, which I posted on my social media accounts this morning: Teachers, remember that those children, no matter their ages or grade level, are somebody's baby. Treat them accordingly. 

Each year, as millions of us send our children to school for the first day of the new school year, we are letting go. And letting go, in this huge and often unfriendly world, is by far the most difficult thing to do. 

There's that sense of freedom, the "I have my life back." There is that panicked "where is the time going?!" And probably dozens more thoughts race through your head.  I know my thoughts have been all over the place. 

As I dropped of my oldest at (gulp) middle school for the first time, my eyes saw the baby I left with a sitter the first time, the preschooler, the kindergartener, and the Boy Scout who left for a week this summer. He's ready for this; I'm getting there.  Maybe. 

It doesn't get any easier to let go. I know now why my mom smiled an odd smile and sometimes got quiet as we stepped out of the car. She was holding back tears of joy, of pride and of longing to hold on for one more minute before we grew up a little more. 

My twins are in fourth grade this year. They're facing a whole new set of expectations. They, like their big brother, were excited, nervous, ready to go. They walked away, throwing up a hand to say bye and to give the principal a high five. I'd asked if I needed to walk in with them, since the youngest of the twins was a bit nervous. As expected, I got eye rolls and a "Mo-om!" 

My prayer today is that each one of my boys feels loved, safe and accepted.  And if I may, I'll pray the same for yours. 

God bless and thanks for reading.