The first time it happened Spirit came home very concerned for her. Asking us why she would have those, what does it feel like to her and what does it do to her. He also admitted to being a little scared, not OF her but scared FOR her. I could see it in his eyes that first time that he was genuinely concerned for her.
Since that first time, the girl has had seizures in class probably 4 or 5 more times. Every time, Spirit comes home concerned. He wants to know if there is anything we can do for her, etc, etc etc.
The teacher has done some explaining to the class, which has eased Spirit's mind on it, but he still tells us every time she has a seizure. He knows now she has a medical condition that causes this, he knows they should turn her on her side so she doesn't choke, and he thinks it is really nice that two girls in his class hold the girls hand after the seizure to make her feel better.
For some reason last night he was really thinking about her (and wouldn't be because he wants to marry her... click here to see why!). He wanted to get online to find out more about seizures and what causes them. He also described to me what it looks when she has one. He told me how the teachers are always calm about it so he realizes he should be calm too, but he told me that he just wants to help her.
It occured to me, at that very moment, as I was looking into those big brown eyes that I might be looking at the next great doctor. Maybe that is what he will aspire to be when he goes off to college.
Have you ever read the below poem, which is for teachers, but totally applies to being a parent in so many ways as well.... I just love the poem and actually have a copy in my house that I look at often!
WITH APOLOGIES TO NONE
~Author unknown~
When I am introduced as a teacher, I am usually asked what I teach.
I reply, "I teach the little ones." So often the response is a flat "oh."
I have never been certain whether it is an expression of
sympathy or disinterest. I wish I had the time to say something like this:
Where else would life look as bright to me as it does having an
energetic group to whom nothing is impossible?
Where else could I walk into a room and see so many
eager faces turn to greet me?
Where else could I wear the same thing day after day and
still be told I look pretty?
Where else could I guide the first letter formations of a chubby little hand
and think that someday it might write a book or sign
an important document?
Where else could I so quickly forget my own aches and pains because of
skinned knees, bumped heads, and broken hearts that need my consolation?
Where else could I feel so close to my Maker as I do each day,
when because of something I've done, little children learn and grow?
Yes, I teach the little ones and I love it!
~Author unknown~
When I am introduced as a teacher, I am usually asked what I teach.
I reply, "I teach the little ones." So often the response is a flat "oh."
I have never been certain whether it is an expression of
sympathy or disinterest. I wish I had the time to say something like this:
Where else would life look as bright to me as it does having an
energetic group to whom nothing is impossible?
Where else could I walk into a room and see so many
eager faces turn to greet me?
Where else could I wear the same thing day after day and
still be told I look pretty?
Where else could I guide the first letter formations of a chubby little hand
and think that someday it might write a book or sign
an important document?
Where else could I so quickly forget my own aches and pains because of
skinned knees, bumped heads, and broken hearts that need my consolation?
Where else could I feel so close to my Maker as I do each day,
when because of something I've done, little children learn and grow?
Yes, I teach the little ones and I love it!
