Mrs. Davis

Yesterday I went to the Orem library.  There was torrential rain.  Seriously.  It was like a pineapple express in November in Seattle.  That may not mean anything to you, but when you know, you know.  

I had slipped my glasses in my pocket so I couldn't see very clearly, but someone said, "Mrs. Davis!  Did you have a good Christmas?"

It was disorienting, because at school I'm called Mrs. Davis, but usually not at the Orem library.  It was the mother of one of my former students.  I know her first name.  Does she not know mine?  Weird.

I went to the mall to try to get my watch repaired.  I saw a woman pushing a cleaning cart with one hand and holding onto the hand of her daughter with the other hand.  The daughter looked about 3rd grade age and she looked like maybe she had special needs.  I felt so much admiration for her hardworking mother.  I also felt grateful for free public schools.  I'm grateful children have a safe place to go and learn, especially if their parents have to work.

Then I went to my school.  I spent about three hours in my classroom.  I had left hastily both Thursday and Friday in the last week of school and I had stuff to do.  I organized and filed and changed the decorations and calendar.  I moved desks and reassigned "dot spots," which is where they sit on the floor.

Enoch texted and asked if I was in Utah and I sent him a photo of my desk.

He said, "Christmas break!  Take it easy!"

I replied that it was my basketball, which I knew he'd understand.  They spend hours in the gym, because they know it pays off.

I don't necessarily want to be spending my Christmas break in my classroom, but I want to have spent that time.

Mrs. Davis was looking out for future Mrs. Davis. (And I am finished getting ready now, so I'm home the rest of the week.)