Photo: Ursa Minor, reunited with the Atlantic, enjoying a carefree moment.
Today was the big Tide Pool field trip and I chaperoned like a good stay-at-home mom. I was a lot smarter about it this year, though: instead of getting on the bus like a damned idiot (which is what I did last year), I drove Ursa Minor there. Audiobook, air conditioning, comfy seat, quiet passenger. Yes. I’m a genius.
Because of this awesome act, I was in a much better mood for the whole thing. We got there almost 30 minutes early, which is how I got to take the nice photo above. Once all the other kiddos got there, madness ensued. Buckets, nets, sunscreen, blankets, gimmes and needs… lots and lots of energy. We dropped our stuff by the entrance and then walked to the far end of the beach to a rocky area where the crabs and shrimp like to hide during low tide. After the first kid found the first crab, it was off the races.
Because there were so many other parents on the trip, I only had one kid in my group with me, a sweet kid of Brazilian descent who was an absolute delight. He was polite, he was happy to be there, I always knew where he was, he had stuff to chat about that wasn’t Pokemon… I want to find his parents and shake their hands and give them hugs.
When the trip was over and we were back here at home, I said to Minor: “I really liked [Cool Kid]. He was really something. Are you friends with him?”
Minor frowned. “Nope.”
I was sincerely shocked. They’d gotten along so well during the trip… and usually when teachers make groups for field trips, they try to stick friends together. I only got the one kid, so I figured this was Minor’s one buddy in class right now. “Well, why not?”
Casual shrug. “I spend my time at recess racing. [Cool kid] doesn’t race. So… you know….”
I don’t know why this makes me sad, but it does. It took a lot not to launch into a lesson. He has to define what friendship is for himself. He has to choose his own friends.
Perhaps I should pray for Cool Kid to start racing at recess? Ok, ok… I won’t fuss or meddle.
Anyway, this is a short post because I’m clearly exhausted, but I have to put up something kinda unrelated but still important.
On Sunday, I was trained to help with the Eucharist at church… which was a stupid idea on my part. My first crack at it is on Sunday. I look forward to writing a post about screwing up on Monday. Anyway, while I was waiting for the Reverend and other trainee to come into the sanctuary, I came upon a hymnal: Lift Every Voice and Sing II, an African American Hymnal.
Whaaaaat? I was like, whaaaaaatttt?? Say whaaaaat??
I had time enough to read the opening chapters… and I flipped through some of the songs. Then I wondered if the Easter hymns from my childhood would be in there. Well, guess what?
As some of you would recall, I had a moment over Easter when I was thinking about Grandy and humming old hymns I haven’t heard since childhood. Essentially, I was looking for her voice in my memories. I tried to find recordings of the songs in some capacity, but couldn’t find any. My heart broke all over again. This is an unexpected and supreme gift.
Two out of the three hymns I was trying to remember were in this book.
I write this all to write… seek and you shall find, ask and you shall receive. Not always right away, or in expected ways… but if you keep your heart and mind open, amazing things can happen. Even miracles.
It’s Monday. Ask for something. Seek something. Make opportunities for miracles. Anything can happen this week, Dear Reader. Anything.
Until Wednesday, take care.