Twenty Eight Minutes

Today I'm feeling grateful for the 28 minutes that I got

with my 8th-grade class families this morning.

It was a half day, and I wanted us to have a closing circle,

so that nothing was left unsaid before we said adiós.

So I read this to them, then I asked each one of them to reflect aloud.

What are they grateful for? What surprised them this year?

What will they remember most about the class?

What did they learn about themselves?

What did they most enjoy?

Their answers were honest and humbling.

Want to know what they liked the most?

The Yoga stretches. 

The Motivation Mondays.

The Wellness Wednesdays.

The Hot Seat Getting-To-Know-You game.

The other games, like BRAVO and Family Feud.

They thanked me for making Spanish class

a safe and happy place. For making it seem easy.

For making it playful and fun.

For making them feel like

everything is going to be ok.

For giving them grace. Lots of grace.

And I was holding back my tears, because

they appreciated what truly matters the most.

And it was not lost on me that in another school, just 

five hours down the road from us, another school family

is facing a very different reality today because of what happened

on their campus Tuesday. Lives lost, hearts shattered.

I was emotional because I was running out of time

with my class family and all we had left

was these last twenty eight minutes,

but another school family

lost 19 innocent children and

two loving teachers

forever, leaving 

all of us

bewildered,

devastated,

horrified,

empty,

angry,

lost.

The unimaginable.

And it happened again.

Life is so very precious,

children are a gift from God.

Teachers who hold their hearts

and will risk their lives for them

are a true blessing from God.

I'm at a loss for words around this massacre.

All I can ask is that we pray for the Uvalde, Texas families

as they mourn and grieve and hold one another up

 during this unspeakable, unfathomable nightmare.

And hold your loved ones a little closer,

a little tighter, a little longer today.

And tomorrow. And always.

This image from Pamela Zagarenski speaks to me.

What if we all gave someone an extra twenty-eight minutes of our time for connecting and reconnecting this summer; could we change the trajectory of a life, so that our words weren't just platitudes, but instead, an actionable plan to help stop the hurting and start the healing?

Whom might you invest 28 minutes in?