To Our Dearest Teacher on the Last Day of Pre-K :: A Letter of Gratitude

To Our Dearest Pre-K Teacher,

On the first day …. well, actually the first 3 weeks (but who’s counting), we cried. And you rocked us (well, my 4 year old physically, me emotionally). Thank you. You didn’t have to, but you mothered my child when I could not.

In the first few weeks, you answered my worried messages long after you left school. You let me know that things would be fine and you would look after my little guy as if he were your own.

You sent me pictures when we had rough mornings. He, of course, was fine 15 minutes after I dropped him off. I, however, was a mess. I would have worried all day, but those pictures soothed me in a way that no words could.

You listened patiently as my husband and I fretted over “social development” and “exact milestones.” You knew that our son would be just fine and reassured us of such.

You taught the children to put those who were sick and  couldn’t come to school “in their hearts.” Teaching 4 and 5 year olds empathy and compassion is no easy feat. You reminded me that little ones are capable of so much love.

You called my child “so smart” because you could see the leaps and bounds he made in such a short time. You reminded me to watch with wonder because sometimes I miss the forest for the trees.

You smiled and thought it was precious when I didn’t realize that my child put his clothes on over his pajamas. When I came to pick him up the car rider line, he was wearing skeleton pajama pants and a polo. I panicked and assumed I sent him to school like that. You laughed and taught me that there is no need to take things so seriously when you’re dealing with a 4 year old.

You saw patience and concentration in his creations when all I could think was “hurry up.” Thank you for reminding me to slow down.

You smiled when you saw me cock my head to the side in a combination of disgust and amazement when I came to the class to read, and I saw ten 4 and 5 year olds picking their noses in unison. You reminded me that they’re all like this and they’re all still alive – just wash your hands and move along.

Thank you for reminding me of the every day miracle child that lives in my house and rarely gets all the urine in the toilet. Though he won’t stay asleep in his bed all night, his creativity and intellect never ceases to amaze.

You have the passion, patience and gentleness that I wish that I had. When my little guy accidentally calls me by your name, I am flattered and relieved that he has a “bonus mom” at school. You have a lightness about you that reminds me to laugh about the goofiness of 4 and 5 year olds. They will never be this sweet or this innocent ever again. Thank you for being my constant reminder to soak it all in.

So, as we make our way to Kindergarten (and I say we because I have just as much to learn as he does), know that neither of us will ever forget the lessons you have taught us or the love that you have shown us both.

Much love and so much gratitude,

Amanda and Kael

 

Amanda Fuselier
Amanda is a native of Kenner, LA and is now an honorary Cajun. She is married to a psychiatric nurse, Joe, and is a hospice social worker so don't come to her house unless you are ready to talk about your feelings! Amanda and Joe are parents to Kael and Remy and furry parents to Luna and Spiderman. Amanda is all about that #boymom life and is enjoying wrangling her two wild men while checking out the wonderful culture of Acadiana and all of Louisiana. Amanda is a fan of all things yummy and enjoys a good cocktail. Her motto is "if I can't wear yoga pants, I'm not going".

1 COMMENT

  1. This could easily have been written by mom when I was in ninth grade in 76.

    Good job Amanda.

    David

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