Blessing of the Backpacks

It gets me every time. 

The blessing of the backpacks. 

The first year, it was the whole concept. 

Last year, it was the opening of hands to receive the blessing. 

Yesterday, it was my sweet 5th grade friend Caius. 

After admitting that he was not looking forward to going back to school, 

He announced that the only thing he was looking forward to was seeing his teacher. 

He added his friends as a PS. 

“But mostly my teacher,” he said—

His teacher who looped up with his class because she liked them so much—

His teacher whom he knows and loves because she knows and loves him as well. 

 

…

 

I spent at least three hours over the weekend typing up my class lists and making my grade book. 

It would have been much easier to ask my data manager for the lists electronically and then to copy and paste them, 

But typing out the names allowed me to remember. And pray. And feel out class make-up. 

It was a step in processing the beginning of the year. 

It was an exercise in patience and perseverance. 

It was a simple gesture of love. 

 

…

 

I teach over 600 students per year.

Learning names isn’t always easy,

But I do my best to learn names because names are important.

Names help us feel seen and heard and valued.

Caius’s teacher sees him, hears him, and values him.

She is why he wants to go back to school.

 

…

 

If I could be the reason that just one of my students wants to come back to school,

Then it would all be worth it.

Just one of those names.

Just one of those little people.

If I’m there for just one student to feel safe,

And seen,

And heard,

And valued,

Then I am there for the world.

…

 

Oh God: Help me hold to the one. Even if I never know which one it is. Amen.