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Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Pride and Joy
Back in the days before I was a songwriter, I was a stay at home mom, and before that, I was a school teacher. I taught first and second grade to ESL students. Which basically means I taught first and second grade and had a few students in my class that didn't speak english. Which basically means I was trained to teach with a lot of songs, pictures and charades. I loved teaching. But I realized recently what I loved the most about it (besides the fact that I loved the kids) was that it was an outlet for my creativity - which at that point in my life - had no other outlet. I was famous for making up songs for my students to learn their lessons by. It's amazing how much more kids retain when you put something to music... Well one of the students in my class was an adorable little boy with Cuban origins named Pedro. To the best of my recollections, he lived with his grandmother (along with a slew of cousins) because his mom couldn't take care of him on her own, and his dad was in jail in Miami. But to know Pedro, was to know light and sunshine and happiness. He was always smiling, always positive, always ready to learn and to make us all laugh. The one and only time I ever saw him sad was the first year I was his teacher (I moved up with his class from first to second grade) at spring break. At the end of the day, all the kids were lined up at the door to leave and Pedro lurked behind at the end of the line with his head down. I was hugging all the kids as they left wishing them a good spring break. When Pedro was the only kid left, I noticed that he wasn't his usual happy self. When I asked him what was wrong, he burst into tears and said, "I don't want to go on spring break. I don't want to miss you for a whole week." So I made up some kind of silly game and told him to look at his watch every day at 3:00 and to know that I'd be doing the same, and at 3:00 everyday, we'd both look up at the sky and yell at the top of our lungs, "I MISS YOU BUT I'LL SEE YOU SOON". We practiced a few times in the classroom until teachers were sticking their heads out of their doors to see what the commotion was, and until Pedro was smiling again. I found out I was pregnant with Caroline the summer before I moved up with his class to second grade. I knew that when she was born in February, I wouldn't be coming back. So I spent a good portion of the year preparing all the kids for the fact that I'd be leaving before the end of the year. We did all kinds of things in preparation of me having Caroline. They loved to feel my belly hoping to feel her move or kick. Every week we'd get out the tape measure to see how much my belly had grown. We made a paper chain counting the number of days till my due date and every day kids would take turns being the one that got to cut off the chain marking one less day till the big event. And no one was more enthusiastic about all these things than Pedro. When I had Caroline in February, I returned to the school a few weeks later, new baby in tow, to show her off to my little orphaned class. Even though I had done a good job of preparing them for my departure, we were all a little melancholy that our time together was done. I'd hear from a few of my students occasionally...but for the most part, I was fully immersed in the business of being a mom. On the day of Caroline's first birthday, a year after I left teaching, I received a call from my old school saying I needed to come pick something up. They wouldn't tell me what it was, just that it was important, and I needed to come that day if possible. So I went. When I got there, they brought Pedro into the office. In his hands was a huge big store bought birthday cake that said, Happy 1st Birthday Caroline. I started to cry. The most remarkable thing about this, was that this little 3rd grade boy had been saving his own money for months and months, counting down the days until the exact day of my baby's birthday. He WALKED to the grocery store by himself to get the cake before school and showed up at school with it. He was that kind of kid. He still is. Yesterday was my daughter's 10th birthday. Last night before bed, my phone rang. It was Pedro, who is now in High School. He was making his annual phone call on Caroline's birthday. Not one year has gone by when he hasn't remembered. He usually calls me every Mother's Day too. I found out this year that he no longer lives with his grandmother in East Dallas. He's been adopted by a family and lives pretty close to Caroline's school. He's being homeschooled by his new family and is a Senior. He's also taking college courses at the local community college. He's hoping to be a Speech Pathologist. I wish I could take some credit for Pedro and how he turned out. But I know better. I'm glad that Pedro loved me, but Pedro didn't need me. The light I saw in him was there the first day he entered my classroom. I just got to enjoy it for a while. I feel so blessed that he continues to share his life with me. I can't wait to see all the great things he's going to do. posted by Cary Cooper @ 9:55 PM 1 Comments: |
