Playing School

This is...well crap, I can't really say his name since he is a student. Let's just call him Theo.

We've been in school 142 days, and I've told Theo at least 141 times NOT to use my markers while he's waiting for his bus. Maybe he has a hearing problem.

I couldn't help but smile today, though, when I caught him writing on the board. You see, Theo, up until recently, has thought that we haven't learned anything in class. After some reminders, explanations, and finally a Word Wall, he realized just how much we've covered. I caught him today doing what I had done so many years ago in my parents' classrooms. Playing school. He didn't care that he's about to be a high schooler and it's probably not cool to be playing school anymore. He was proud of what he'd learned. So he was making up a test for others.

Now...if I could just get him to learn NOT to write on my board. (Expo markers aren't cheap, people!)

New Beginnings

I love spring. I feel like it's a time when the whole world can begin again. Second chances are awesome, aren't they?

Real-Life Application

It's amazing how God speaks through simple, ordinary, everyday events.

A couple weeks ago I went with Mandy to Las Palmas. I noticed one of my former students walk in. She is very special to me, and I hadn't really seen her since before Christmas. She is a girl that I discipled, and her mother is a good friend of mine. She couldn't see me from where she was sitting, so I called her name. Her response was, "Miss P.! I hear Miss P.'s voice!"

It was a defining moment to me. I realized the bond shared. She didn't say, "Wait. I hear my voice." She said, "I hear Miss P.'s voice."

And then, just like that, God spoke. He reminded me that when I call out to Him, He doesn't say, "Wait, everyone. I hear My voice. Someone down there is calling Me. Who is it?"

But He says, "Wait. I hear Shannon's voice."

It gives me chills just thinking about it.

Mission Impossible

So, my students have discovered a way to get me to stay in the States. In an attempt to quell their insistent questions of how they can get me to stay (which include, and I'm not kidding, "Miss P., do they have overhead projectors over there? We know how much you love yours..." and "Can you take your cat? No? Then, you better not go"), I came up with the ultimate solution.

I gave them a task that would keep them busy while feeling productive. (OK -- mainly just to keep them from asking all the annoying questions.) So, I gave them the impossible.

I've promised that if Orlando Bloom proposes to me, I'll stay here. They've already acquired his address and written the letter. I know because I had to proofread it. (After all, couldn't have him thinking I was a terrible teacher.)

Poor Orlando. You're about to get even more irritating fan mail.

Mrs. Potato Head

It's 11:00 PM. Do you know where Shannon is?

Seriously. I think I'm turning into a computer potato.