Yesterday I went home and wrote in my journal: My heart has cried and filled my soul with its tears.
I work with some of the most amazing people I have ever had the opportunity to know. (And for those of you who know me, that's a pretty high standard.) The school I'm at this year is an interesting place. Just take the pieces I've shared and put it together. It's one of the lowest socio-economic areas settled next to one of the wealthiest sections of Florida. Most of my students are the children of farm workers. The parents work in the fields or packing houses from before sunrise to well past sunset and even into the wee hours of the morning. This back breaking work often provides for them a government-assisted duplex, Habitat for Humanity home, or a single-wide trailer shared with another family or two.
During our meeting yesterday, we discussing some rather disturbing information about some of our students. In the process, we decided to throw a small holiday party for our neediest students. The six of us put together a list and then decided to give them each a stocking filled with small gifts and some pizza.
When I say these kids are getting nothing for Christmas, I mean they are getting nothing. Some of them don't even have their families at home. That thought alone breaks my heart when I think about how much Christmas means to a kid. I remember a few years when we had a very meager Christmas at my house, but I still cannot imagine having NOTHING to unwrap.
The conversation progressed, and we ended up going from sharing lunch together and exchanging gifts as a team to pooling our money to buy pizza and gifts for our neediest kids. The best part is that it didn't stop there. We ended up almost fighting over who is going to buy a special gift for which kid.
I am moved by that level of compassion. And I am so excited to go shopping for my girls. One girl told me that she wants to learn the piano, and I offered to give her lessons in the morning (if I can remember to bring in my keyboard!). I'm going out to find her a keyboard to keep at home. I don't know what I'm doing about the other one next.
I'm so afraid that this is not coming across just the right way. It was such a beautiful moment. In fact, I've had many beautiful moments lately that I haven't written about because I'm afraid my words won't do it justice.
So now I need to go shopping.
I work with some of the most amazing people I have ever had the opportunity to know. (And for those of you who know me, that's a pretty high standard.) The school I'm at this year is an interesting place. Just take the pieces I've shared and put it together. It's one of the lowest socio-economic areas settled next to one of the wealthiest sections of Florida. Most of my students are the children of farm workers. The parents work in the fields or packing houses from before sunrise to well past sunset and even into the wee hours of the morning. This back breaking work often provides for them a government-assisted duplex, Habitat for Humanity home, or a single-wide trailer shared with another family or two.
During our meeting yesterday, we discussing some rather disturbing information about some of our students. In the process, we decided to throw a small holiday party for our neediest students. The six of us put together a list and then decided to give them each a stocking filled with small gifts and some pizza.
When I say these kids are getting nothing for Christmas, I mean they are getting nothing. Some of them don't even have their families at home. That thought alone breaks my heart when I think about how much Christmas means to a kid. I remember a few years when we had a very meager Christmas at my house, but I still cannot imagine having NOTHING to unwrap.
The conversation progressed, and we ended up going from sharing lunch together and exchanging gifts as a team to pooling our money to buy pizza and gifts for our neediest kids. The best part is that it didn't stop there. We ended up almost fighting over who is going to buy a special gift for which kid.
I am moved by that level of compassion. And I am so excited to go shopping for my girls. One girl told me that she wants to learn the piano, and I offered to give her lessons in the morning (if I can remember to bring in my keyboard!). I'm going out to find her a keyboard to keep at home. I don't know what I'm doing about the other one next.
I'm so afraid that this is not coming across just the right way. It was such a beautiful moment. In fact, I've had many beautiful moments lately that I haven't written about because I'm afraid my words won't do it justice.
So now I need to go shopping.
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