Message from a 1st Grader

Believe it or not, I have another 1st grade story to share…

At the beginning of class today, one of my students, A, came directly to my desk instead of going to his seat. When I got up to greet the class, he followed me. After I hugged him and he didn’t go sit down—which is usually what happens when I have a lingerer—I asked if he needed something. He said he wanted to tell me something. I said okay and started to listen but continued monitoring the rest of the class. I often do this, too, because most of the time students want to tell me something completely random—like their uncle’s girlfriend is having a birthday this weekend or their bug bite itches—have me acknowledge them, and then return to their seats.

Since A never said anything—he’s a pretty quiet kid—and the class came in a bit crazy, I quickly started the welcome song for focus. A went to his seat, sang along, completed our entire class welcome routine, but evidently didn’t forget that he wanted to tell me something because he came right back to me the moment we finished our welcome and said, “Can I tell you now?”

Realizing that he really wanted to tell me something but assuming it was something quick, I gave A my full attention. The class quickly slipped back into crazy but I tried my best to focus on A. At first, I had no idea what he was talking about because he was reciting something about his sister. Then I realized that he was sharing a voice-mail message that his mom had left on Sunday night.

“Oh, oh, oh!” I said. “You’re telling me a message that your mom left you! Do you not live with your mom?”

“No,” he said, “she lives in another town. But she called on Sunday night and this is what she said.”

He then proceeded to speak the clearest and most confidently I’d ever heard him speak, quoting his mom’s message verbatim, as if her words were the greatest words he’s ever heard.

She didn’t say anything profound. She wasn’t imparting life wisdom to her children. She had very simply called them, missed them, said that’d try to call back around 6 that night, and told them that she loved them.

Yet her words were absorbed by her 1st grade son’s heart and mind like water is absorbed by a sponge.
And he was so happy.
And he was so proud.
And he was so affected by his mom’s phone call that he had to tell his music teacher about the call four days later.

Friends, take what you will from this story—the importance and power of words, the impact of a phone call, the need for presence, the need for love, the brokenness of family, the reminder that kids crave their parents attention, the challenge to focus your attention on the person in front of you instead of all of the distractions around you. As for me, I’ll take the memory of A’s bright eyes and determined mouth boldly reciting a phone message of hope and I’ll pray that hope, not jaded disappointment, will be the dominant force that pushes him through the 1st grade and beyond.