Serving Children

When I started volunteering at our local elementary school, I was just trying to give myself something meaningful to do as my last child set off on his own, but soon my service became more than just an attempt to fill an empty nest. As the year progressed, my health quickly deteriorated. Spending the day with a class of energetic eight-year-olds certainly helped divert my attention from a nearly overwhelming sense of anxiety and from the exhaustion I felt due to not being able to sleep well. I also had to deal with considerable pain, and the knowledge that the doctors were not only unable to discover what was the matter, but could not give me any help or hope. Under these stressful circumstances, I found the warm, supportive atmosphere in the classroom very comforting.

Though I received a lot of emotional strength from being at the school, I came home completely exhausted. My husband understood how important this service was to me. He knew that I had an elementary teaching credential, but had given up a career in teaching to raise our four children. He also knew that I had dreamed of having a class of my own when our children were raised, and that this volunteering might be as close as I would ever come to realizing that dream. Because he understood, he said, “A teacher has to teach”, and he cheerfully got our dinner and helped keep up the house.