What if every child were lucky enough to have a school like the Children's Center? They would all be known, challenged, helped, hugged, cheered on, cried over, laughed with, and loved. Errol's school is like an extension of our home. He is cared for by his teachers/aunties Anne, Audrey, and Paula, who treat him like their own child (Errol reciprocates, and treats them like family). The warmth spills beyond the classroom, and we feel love from everyone we encounter, from the amazing principal, Mike, to the wonderful curriculum coordinator, Carol. We feel like the luckiest parents in the world to have our son at the Children's Center. I have worked my whole life in schools (some of them truly remarkable), yet I have never been in a place as magical as the Children's Center. Every time I walk into Errol's school I feel such hope, optimism, and love that I get teary eyed. Errol loves it as much as I do, and (unlike me) he starts to hoot whenever we pull in to the parking lot at the Children's Center (does he see it, smell it, hear it? We don't know). If every child were lucky enough to have a school like Errol's, what a wonderful world this would be.
2 comments:
Dear Jonathan,
It's an island of miracles, isn't it, this school of Errol's? Isn't it miraculous to be surrounded and filled by the love and care and enthusiasm of such a place as this? When you are challenged by a child who isn't like other children health-wise, it can be so isolating. I would very much like to see this school. But I have, in a way, because your pictures of it are so vivid. Thank you for sharing this with us. It is really fun seeing all of your faces.
Much love, Marigene
You are all so beautiful and Mo and I miss you! Thank you so much for keeping this blog so we can touch in on your lives and see your lovely faces in pictures.
I hope we get to see you in the not too distant future and catch up in person.
I'm working for the oral history project StoryCorps and we had a wonderful interview recently with a couple who came in to talk about their child (who had Cornelia de Lange Syndrome). They spoke about the time she began to walk at 28 months -- after the development books said if she didn't walk by 24 months that she would never walk. Her mother said "that's when I knew to throw out those stupid milestone books and that Liddy would just be Liddy and I would just be happy and rejoice in every little thing she did."
Their interview left me in tears and I want to remember that in my own life -- to be in the moment with the persons you love and appreciate them for who they are with you right then and there.
I send you all lots of love,
xoxo,
Rach
(p.s. to J: we went to Maine recently and you can't imagine how much I wish I had stopped the car to take a picture of M with the giant lobster painting in Rockland to send to you -- I am filled with this little mini-regret!)
Post a Comment