Thursday, September 1, 2011

He Goes To Kindergarten

"The baby grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was...." almost five years old. And he begged his mom to wear his church shoes to his first day of Kindergarten because he wanted to "be fancy". And he stood there in long pants of dark blue corduroy, a white polo already bearing the mark of a morning's granola bar, gray dress socks, and black leather shoes waiting just long enough to tolerate pictures with his mother's cell phone. And it was all she could do to hold it together in a maze of parents and excited children, even though she wanted to scream from the rooftops, "This is my son. My baby. He is special because I say so. And listen up world... you will not harm him, and you will be kind to him!" Then in a flash, that boy, ran off toward a table of Lego’s, and never looked back. (And the subtle humor of that moment was not lost on his engineer-mother, for she saw herself in him.)

And even though this was not the first morning she had said good-bye to him, it was a significant morning. The baby she had waited for, fought for, and prayed for, who had miraculously appeared via a phone call on an average Monday (literally by special delivery from God, Himself) ... who had turned her life, her house, and her heart upside down ... was no longer a dream. He was hers. He was a boy who would someday be a young man, who would someday leave her. And she would have to trust him to the world and to the Lord. Trust him to be safe and good and kind and righteous ... trust him to be whom she saw that very first day she held him in her arms.

And when that almost five year old was safely at school, she opened the door to her car, sat down, and she cried. She cried and she cried and she cried. And somewhere, she found the strength to let him grow.

(The quote and inspiration are from Love You Forever written by Robert Munsch with illustrations by Sheila McGraw.)