A coworker friend stopped me in the hallway yesterday and handed me a bulging gift bag. “I have a little gift for you.” I started to tear it open (because I’m mature) and looked up at her: “NO WAY.” Out of the bag came something I had forgotten about for five years.
In 2018, I scrambled my brain a bit. I depended on my community to get me through that school year, both mentally and physically. While that was not when my Safety Committee was created, they certainly did have their work “cut out” for them that year. I called it The Year of Klutz. The paper cutter was my particular nemesis. You are probably at least familiar with the giant, guillotine-style paper cutter, located in the teacher work-room of every elementary school. I cut my badge not once, not twice, but thrice, much to the amused consternation of my coworkers. Then… I cut my shirt. I had just bought the shirt — it was flowy and comfortable but also fashion-y in that quirky art teacher-type vibe that I love. Well, it flowed right under the blade of that paper cutter. Actions were taken: I was forbidden from using the paper cutter without supervision, and my dear Mrs. Olson said, “I can patch that!” and took my lovely shirt home with her. I hadn’t thought of it again (except once annually when the attached photo showed up in my memories) until yesterday.
I am bowled over with the kindness of this gesture. First of all, I don’t sew. At all. Ever. OK, that’s a lie — I have sewn the ugliest seams in the world on some pajama pants, reattached the nose on my son’s Fuzzy Duck, and replaced a few buttons with an embarrassing amount of thread — I just don’t sew well. Secondly, it has been 5 years. The statute of limitations on this in-the-moment promise has surely run out, and tossing this shirt in the trash at this point would have been totally forgivable. Finally… the woman patched the hole with a POODLE. Think about this: she is a person who has a poodle patch in her possession, AND she knows me well enough to know I would joyfully wear a shirt with a poodle on it. If that isn’t a relationship for which to be grateful, I don’t know what is!
Other beautiful oddities for which I am thankful:
Besides some gorgeous and challenging Christmas music, the utterly delightful director of my small, women-only Madrigal group has thrown in, “Hail Holy Queen” from Sister Act for our holiday concert (because our theme is MARY.)
High school students who have joined Community Chorus are reminding me of the hilarious drama and music nerds my friends and I were at that age.
The student that stopped me in the hall to show me a picture of an ant with a giant butt in the book he was reading.
A not-so-covert puppy visited school and I got to cuddle him. (His name is Harvey.)
One of the Kindergarten teachers wore a Christmas sweater because she just couldn’t wait.
My current audiobook is narrated by a women with a heavy Canadian accent and it makes me giggle.
My poor mom has COVID again — IT IS A MILD CASE AND SHE IS MOSTLY FINE I AM NOT BEING A JERK — but we are choosing to be grateful for a Thanksgiving in our jammies with Bloody Marys and being pretty casual about what time dinner is ready.
My phone helps my brain survive the school day (and avoid phone calls from the office) with the ability to make and label multiple alarms: “take attendance,” “get ready for science,” “plug in your lunch,” and so on.
Risking sincerity for moment: I’m terribly thankful for you all. Thank you for reading my writing, letting me know that you like it, and keeping me going. I can’t express how much it means to me. I hope you all have long, happy weekends with people you love.
Thanks for reading.
Love, Susie
I am thankful that the funny spunky smart girl in my 7th grade social studies class is just as all those things as ever. Thanks for writing, for yourself, for us.
I’m glad you like your poodle!!