The end of the year is always rough on me. I hate saying goodbye to littles I have come to call my own. I hate the thought of not being a part of their every day. I hate that I won't be the one to tell them how many more days until their tooth will fall out. I hate that I won't hear their stories, their plans, their prayer requests.
This years class has been magical. They may have learned a lot, but I think I have learned more. They have loved me deeply ... and I have loved them in return. They have made me laugh ... deep belly laughs. We haven't just become friends, we have become family. And, 8 days is all I have left with them ... and one of those is a half day.
Insert ugly cry here. And, please know I have cried the ugly cry about 42 times in the last few weeks. I may or may not have cried on the first day of school when I realized May 25th would be here quicker than I wanted it to. Ok. I did.
My prayer this year has been that God would be glorified with everything that happened in my classroom. That He would be seen clearly in not only me, but in this amazing class of littles He entrusted me with. I will not stop praying that prayer over them on May 25th.
The end of the year is hard. Not only from the emotional standpoint of letting go when all you want to do is grab them around the ankles and hang on for dear life. There is also the piles of paperwork, ending out a year, beginning to plan for the next, trying to clean up and clear out. Ending a school year is just plain hard ... no matter where you teach ...
