As I mentioned on Wednesday, this semester has been a challenge. I'm in a fourth grade class at a very poor school. The school itself is new and wonderful, but the most of the children live below the poverty line.
The stories I hear from these children sometimes break my heart. I see kids who are told they're ugly and some who have unsupportive parents.
Some of them are so angry. I wonder how awful their situations must be for them to harbor such anger at only nine years old.
I have never seen such disrespect towards teachers and peers. It is shocking to me that they talk back so rudely and call each other such hurtful names.
They surprise me every day. Not in good ways.
Throwing desks, ripping up papers in my face, blatantly refusing to obey.
If I did these things when I was in school, I can't imagine what would have happened.
I would never imagine talking to teachers the way they talk to us. Shocking is the only way I can describe it.
Yet even in these rough conditions, the children have a hold on my heart.
I am so grateful I get a chance to love on them each day and tell them how special I think they are.
I know that on some days, I may be the only one to tell them that.
This year has shown me that this is what I'm supposed to do. I know the Lord has called me to this profession.
While I am often frustrated, at the end of the day, I still love the kids. And I love that I have a chance to make a difference.
They grow up in situations so different from the loving one I grew up with.
I have called my parents multiple times this semester to just thank them.
For loving me, telling me how special I am, being my biggest fan, disciplining me, and supporting me through everything.
My prayer is that I encourage them to be something. To know that they can overcome their challenges and do something great with their lives.
At the end of the day, if I help just one child, it will all be worth it.