Just a Monday.

I helped in Grace's class today. I read a few books to 20 kids. Their eyes absorbed everything they saw, the Bernstain Bears, my facial expression and the way my voice sounded. After that, they went to do some testing including tying shoes, relay races and dexterity exercises. Before I came, they were coloring a booklet about continents. Continents?! I swear, school has gotten much harder since my time. I love to see Grace in action, fussing with this person and that person and so-and-so and then perching on my lap for the last few minutes. I love her and her thick grown-up black hair splaying down her shoulders and back.

I left there and found myself walking into the school parking lot deep in thought. Lillie was there in the stroller right in front of me, only 6 months into her busy little life. Her thumb was moving back and forth, back and forth, against the grooved nylon strap of the seat belt, her eyes staring straight forward. As she memorized the feeling of nylon, its rough texture and edges, she breathed in the breeze as it pushed its way up her nose and watched the leaves moving across the cement.

She is the next big thing. She will move on from feeling straps and breathing wind without a conscious thought. She'll move onto crawling and walking and picking up cheerios with her thumb and forefinger. Pretty soon she'll be worried about why Molly wears oil in her hair and what her teacher's first name is. Today I felt like I was truly in the middle of a cycle. Right smack in the middle. I guess my own mother probably realized this along the line. And now it's hit me. In my 29th year. My place in this huge moving circle. Helping the little ones get to where they're going and stunned at the truth that they'll get there no matter what.