This weekend I had an opportunity to help out at a large kids event that happens weekly in nearby city. At this event there were different stations that the kids were rotating through and I was helping at the craft station. This week, in light of Mother's Day, the craft was to make a Mother's Day card. We'd already had two groups of kids cycle through when the older group of kids came.
The directions were simple. "Mother's Day Cards! Here are the markers. Decorative papers. Glue. Have Fun!" I helped a couple kids before I saw a girl out of the corner of my eye. She was sitting on the floor against the wall on the side of the room. I walked over to her. "Do you want to make a card?" She shook her head. "I don't..." she searched for words, "... really celebrate Mother's Day." I nodded. Her eyes looked tired. Not a sleepy kind of tired. A life long weariness kind of tired. I know nothing of her story, but I could almost feel the ache of her heart. I wasn't sure how to respond. "Do you want a blank piece of paper to just draw?" She shook her head again. "No, I'll just stay here."
I wanted to help. I wanted to be able to comfort her aching heart. I wanted to do something... but I couldn't think of anything. I had no words to offer, so simply said, "Okay," and I walked back to my post and continued with helping all the other card makers. A few minutes later I heard a voice, "Actually, can I have a blank paper?" I turned and I saw the same girl. We got her a paper and I watched as she went to work. She had written a sweet message and added several decorative touches before she started to talk.
"I'm making this for my teacher. She is a really good teacher. She's almost kind of like a mom. She's really protective. She doesn't let people bully, and she cares about kids. She's good. She's protective." Then she smiled proudly as she carefully folded her paper into a handmade envelope that she had stapled herself.
It was remarkable to me to see the change in her countenance as she talked about her teacher. I wish her teacher could have seen what I saw. Dear teacher, you brought joy to a hurting kiddo today. You reminded her that there was someone in her world who cares and protects. For some reason the very term "Mother's Day" hurts her heart, but you helped her hold on to what she thinks a mother should be. You may not feel like you are doing much and maybe to you it wasn't... but to this kiddo, in this moment, you were a thread of hope in a sea of hurt.
One of my favorite parts in all of the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis is found in the book, The Horse and His Boy. The Lion is revealing to the boy, Shasta all the places that He has been with him and He says, "There was only one Lion. I was the Lion who..." and then he names all the ways that he had protected and saved him and directed his steps. I think of this young life, and her teacher who has been a "protective," and I hope that many years down the road she will be able to look back and see God's provision for her in the midst of her pain.
On this Mother's Day I want to honor my mother. I am thankful for all of the ways that she gave of herself when I was a kiddo, and for all of the ways that she has supported me as I mother my own kiddos.
But I want to acknowledge the other unsung heroes on this day. There are so many people who give and nurture the hearts of our children whose efforts are often overlooked. There are a lot of "childless" mothers out there who are doing a lot of mothering. And there are mothers who are mothering many more than they actually birthed.
Thank you. You all represent the teacher in this story. You invest and you care and you give of yourself, and you may think that no one sees. But somewhere there is a child carefully coloring a picture. Choosing markers that represent your favorite sports team, and folding up a paper with a seemingly scribbled message. When you open it please see beyond the words and look into the eyes of the child who wrote it. There is a light... and there is a hope because you are a part of her life.
Happy Mother's Day to you. You are seen.
Three generations under one roof. And we're in the middle, sandwiched by grace.
