Dust

It has been quite a week this week. I'm working on a longer blog post to let you all know what I've been up to this first week of school, but it is really long and I wanted to share a shorter story with you that has been on my mind since Thursday.

I was teaching in 3rd grade (my favorite so far, though it's a close tie with 2nd grade). Anyways, 3rd grade reading happens at the end of the day, when both my students and I are more than ready to go home and let our brains relax. As a result, we tend to butt heads. I just want them to pay attention to me for 45 minutes, they just want me to stop talking. It can be frustrating to say the least. Thursday afternoon, I was exhausted. It was my first full day of teaching two subjects to four grade levels for a total of eight classes. I was trying to explain to the class what comprehension was and why it was important. I was standing next to one of the chattiest students in the room, trying to use proximity to silence him. It worked, but every so often he would bend down for a few seconds, touch his hands to the floor and then straighten back up to listen to me. After he had done so four or five times, I grew frustrated. "Danielo, why can't you...." As I was fussing, I looked down to see this precious boy cleaning the dust off my black flip flops. He looked up at me with wide, startled eyes. My heart melted.

My student, my talkative, energetic, disruptive student was cleaning my shoes. He had nothing to give to me to show me that he loved me. Just that smile and a simple act of service. My shoes that I had worn all day were nasty. They had dust caked on the front of them; I had long since given up the idea that the shoes would stay black during my time here in Haiti. They would get dusty again within 10 minutes of me leaving the classroom. I started to protest, to tell Danielo that this was pointless, that he should have been paying attention instead of cleaning my shoes, that they would get dirty again soon and he should not waste his time. But as I looked into his eyes, my protests fell away.

It reminded me so much of the Bible story  found in Luke 10 where Mary took the time to wash Jesus's feet despite the protests of the others gathered in the room that I was actually speechless. "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary." I was Martha in that moment. I was frustrated and upset that Danielo was not paying attention to me and what I was saying, much as Martha is anxious and upset that Mary was not helping her prepare food for the Lord. She thought what she was doing was more important. But just as Jesus rebuked Martha, God rebuked me. Daughter, remember why you are here. I'm not here to teach reading comprehension or to make sure that all of my students are listening to me 100% of the time. I'm here to show the love of God to my students. So far, they are doing a better job of showing ME the love of God!! Thank God for 10 year olds, huh?