I led my class through a week of fun and excitment. I watched them grow in God and in Christ. I saw the world through there eyes and relized that sometimes, grown-ups make things too complicated.
This week, I grew as a person.
I came home every day hoarse from having to talk above commotion in several rooms. I came home exhausted from playing and singing and (when the need arose) separating children. I came home each day filled with a sense of accomplishment.
I often came home wondering if I had done the best I could.
Today it was confirmed. I did. I did.
As the kids stood up on the stage and sang their songs for their parents, I felt a warm feeling. These were my kids. And even when I thought they weren't listening to me, they were. Even when I thought they weren't paying attention, they were.
These were my kids, and they made me proud. And I told them, as their parents came to pick them up. While the parents told me that I did a great job, I told their children that I loved having them in my class.
And I did. I meant it all.
Maybe I'll do this again next year.
~Meaghan
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