Uh Oh, Spaghetti-O's

It was PTA night which meant a very late night for the 6th grade teachers and no dinner. My stomach was growling, my feet were pounding, and I was irritated by having to stand in the hallway keeping 60 kids quiet. We had all the students gather in the classrooms and after a few last minute announcements about adjustments to the program, I cued up a science video. We had sent a trusty student to relay the message we needed only 5 minutes to get the students in line before our turn in the program. Almost immediately after the start of the video, word was sent for us to line up. We flew down the hall in two perfectly quiet and straight lines. All of a sudden we came to a stop as the music teacher greeted us and said, "Well, they aren't quite ready for us." We couldn't allow the students to talk because we were right outside the meeting. There was no air circulating in the hall and students were growing impatient by the minute. I was even getting a bad case of the grumps.

Finally, the line started moving and the students enthusiasm for performing spread like a contagion through the line. The students quickly found their places on the risers and I was blinded by the Paparazzi Parents, but somehow found my seat. The music began and the voices of children boomed. Tears filled my eyes at such a sight of sweet children singing their hearts out to their proud parents. They did such a fabulous job.

After the students finished performing, Family Math Night began. I sat on the back table sandwiched between two math teachers. We were handed a set of dominoes. None of us felt like playing, but I opened the package anyway and challenged the two of them to a game. We were making so much noise over our game, the assistant principal of the school came over and joined us. All of a sudden we heard a loud thud behind the assistant principal. She bent over and scooped up a crying toddler with a bloody nose. The mom came rushing over and we all headed to the school clinic. I grabbed some gloves and tissues and went to work. Fortunately, I had EMT training and bloody noses was my second nature. The assistant principal handed me an ice pack and the baby started to settle down in his mother's arms. The mother was so grateful for my help and I was thankful God put me in the right place at the right time.

When I returned to the cafeteria, there were only a few people cleaning up and I realized my purse was locked inside my portable building in the back of the school by a dark parking lot. I spotted a policeman still in the cafeteria and he agreed to escort me to my room. When I turned on the lights he said, "Wow! What do you teach?" He loved my tropical room and said, "I would love to be a kid in your room."

At the beginning of every school year I pray for God to use me to serve Him. My empty stomach and my pounding feet got in the way of remembering what a passion I have for teaching children. It took a little boy's, "Uh oh, spaghetti-o's" and a policeman on the night watch to remind me of that. Jesus was a teacher and so am I. I can't think of a greater profession in which to belong and serve Him.