Beauty in the day: there was a LOT of it. Beauty here, beauty there, beauty everywhere. Beautiful children, beautiful parents, beautiful staff. I looked on delightedly as students so loudly repeated what Mrs. Anderson recited for them in ONE VOICE. I looked on with enchantment as the students silently and interestedly watched a video about how their brain works when it’s learning. I listened with GREAT INTEREST when a soon-to-be-Kindergartener told me her important truth: “My 3-year-old sister is going to turn 5 after she turns 4, just like me.”
We build knowledge upon knowledge at Ardmore.
Beauty in the day: he came to the clinic with cracked, bleeding lips.
“I have just the thing!” I told him. Afterwards he asked to call his mom.
“Hi mom. My lip was bleeding, but Ms. Nordstrom put gasoline on it, and it’s better now.”
Beauty in the day: it was time to take the daily walk to pick up Jaffrey from school, so Bree told Everett to get ready. He showed up with her crocheted beanie cap filled with about 16 hot wheels. She noted this and mentally rolled her eyes, but figured if he could carry them in the cap, it wasn’t worth the argument to tell him to leave them behind.
When they reached the school, the children we being dismissed, and heading out to meet their parents. Bree suddenly became aware that Everett was passing out his hot wheels to kids, saying, “Merry Christmas!” Bree asked him if he knew that he wasn’t getting those back, and Everett said, “I know, but they’re for the kids!”
Beauty in the day: standing in line to see the Terra Cotta Warriors led to another wait in a darkened vestibule. Little 7-ish-year-old waiting near me with mom and dad was finding the wait to be – well – challenging. It became apparent that the little one was involved in dance or cheer, as she was doing steps and arm motions in her spot, much to the consternation of her mother, who would whisper to her to stop. Little One would stop, but the rhythm had a hold of her, and within seconds she would be back at it, only to be reminded by mom to stop again. This continued (to my delight), and gave credence to Maya Angelou’s quote: “Everything in the universe has a rhythm, everything dances.”
Beauty in the day: it’s the mom of the very young woman with a new (to her) pair of lungs. That mom has done some serious time in her life, and all her heartbeats have been for others.
Tammy Spading Wallace – you don’t need to donate your heart – it’s already been filling up so many people with love. ❤️
Beauty in the day: his mom came in to give us some information. I wrote it all down and then she said, “oh, and one more thing…” she started to laugh, corrected herself, then began again. “He told me…” she started to laugh again. This continued for a bit until she was able to continue.
“He doesn’t normally buy school lunch, so this has been new for him, and yesterday there were hot dogs. I asked him how he liked it. He told me he didn’t eat it. I asked why, and he said, ‘They only have mustard there.’ I told him I was pretty sure there would be ketchup too, but he confirmed with, ‘No ketchup at school mom. They can’t afford it.”
Mom broke up laughing again.
Beauty in the day: she is 3. We were out in the playground during an after-school event, and she was in the sandbox, digging.
I asked her what she was making, and she said she wasn’t making anything, she was just digging.
I can appreciate that she likes to call a spade a spade, so I left it there. I made some comments about what a fantastic digger she was. This apparently led her to sort of feel compassion for my efforts, because she switched gears suddenly, and announced that she was cooking.
I seized on this new information with much exclaiming, and asked her what she was making. She told me without looking up that it was stew.
I could have left it at that, but I didn’t. She was sharing, and I was enjoying the attention. “Wow, stew, huh? Are you making it for yourself, or for your whole family?”
Clearly having the realization that this conversation might continue beyond the current small talk, she looked up at me with a bored expression and said blandly, “it’s just sand.”
Note to self: enthusiasm is great, but know your audience. If it’s a very precocious little 3-year-old with edge, know that she is so on to you.