Quick! What’s the first thing that pops into your head when you consider the month of September? Is it the changing leaf color? Labor Day weekend picnics? Apples on sale at Sid’s? The Rod Run at the End of the World? Returning to school?
Starting with Kindergarten, all through the years of college and on into the 30 years of my teaching career, I returned to the classroom every September for 47 consecutive years.
That’s a lot of school lunches, and a lot of lesson plans, and way too many staff meetings, and hundreds of assemblies in the multi-purpose room. It’s also a lot of field trips, and putting up bulletin boards, and correcting papers.
And if I had a dollar for every time I said, “Please take your seats,” or “May I have your attention?” or “Who’d like share their answer?” I’d be a very wealthy woman.
But a person’s true worth will never be measured by the numbers in the bank, and happiness can’t be bought anywhere, at any price, anyway. But every time a former student sends me a little note on Facebook, telling me of a special memory they have from when they were in my class, I am reminded that it’s these stories that are priceless.
I am blessed to have so many fond memories of my years behind the desk. And I’m also blessed when I hear the busses roll in September, as I’m sitting happily at my computer in my pajamas, working on my next novel, and grateful to be embracing the next chapter of my life.
It’s all good.