Tuesday, 14 September 2010

Starting School

The School Run

Today was the first day of school for the youngest of our brood. We're entering a whole new era for our family and it is an exciting time for all of us. We took the usual First Day of School photos before leaving the house and his elder siblings made promises of looking after him in the playground. They took their promise seriously as when he came home at lunchtime and I asked what his favourite part his day had been, he replied that it was playing with his sisters. 

He had a great time and was excited about bringing reading books home in his bag. We read them together this afternoon while we snuggled on the sofa and talked. I can now hear one of his sisters reading them again to him in his bedroom. 

As they grow older I am sure that they all as siblings will share more things in common, yet  possibly have more grievances to bear. But they'll be there for each other.

Tonight, that makes me smile. 

"It takes a village to raise a child..."

I have been finding the idea my baby going to school very heart wrenching for many reasons. I have read many poems which summed up my emotions, speaking of how quickly they grow, the bittersweet feelings it evokes, and the teary nostalgic vision of the past and for the future. Many of them have made me cry as I felt the tugs on my heart strings. 

I then found this poem which inspired me and made me feel positive. All of my children have started the new term with a new teacher. These teachers are going to help us as parents to guide them through the coming year. I hope that they all build a good relationship with their new teachers and that they will feel motivated and inspired in their lives by their teachers, friends and family. 

It reminds me now of the old African proverb....

I will feel comforted by this as my children grow up and in to the world. 

I dreamed I stood in a studio
And watched two sculptors there,
The clay they used was a young child’s mind
And they fashioned it with care. 

One was a teacher:
the tools she used were books and music and art;
One was a parent
With a guiding hand and gentle loving heart.

And when at last their work was done,
They were proud of what they had wrought.
For the things they had worked into the child
Could never be sold or bought!

And each agreed she would have failed
if she had worked alone.
For behind the parent stood the school, 
and behind the teacher stood the home!

By Cleo V. Swarat  

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