Of The Year

February is one of the more bitter sweet months of the year for our little family.  And this year, our varied emotions were accentuated by some notable events.

On Valentine's Eve, our kitchen was a flurry of scissors and markers and class lists.

It was late and our creating felt more like a mechanic (if mostly cheerful), "get-it-done!" assembly line than a thoughtful, artistic endeavor.  Still, the kids were pleased with their work.

(And I was grateful that, thanks to Jeanine and the Poorts, we mostly had all needed supplies on hand!  Thanks friends! =)

L and S were eager to take their treasures to school the next day, but were otherwise unaware of what a truly special day it would be.  And this is where I ought to backtrack a little.

Our school's character development/recognition program is based on a poem about being a "builder," vs. a "wrecker."  The idea resonated easily with me as I researched the school last summer.  I'd just given Spencer the "Builder" Award at our preschool closing program, and felt general sentimentally about the concept based on moments like these.  

Over the course of this past year, I've taught our school's "Builders" poem and song to my two classes of Kindergarteners, as well as given daily praise/reminders about "building" vs. "wrecking" behavior.  

Each month, with all the other elementary teachers, I've selected a student to represent my class as the "Builder of the Month" based on various subcategories (enthusiasm, honesty, gratitude, initiative, willingness to try, concern for others, etc, etc, so forth), and in late January I met with my Kindergarten team teacher to pick one single student from both of our classes to represent Kindergarten as the "Builder of the Year" at a special whole school assembly on February 14. 

I was so busy mulling over that decision (hard!), writing an appropriate tribute, and contacting the parents of our Kindergarten nominee, that I was truly caught off guard when Mr. Crippen quietly pulled me aside after school one day to whisper that he and his team teacher had selected Lucy as the third grade candidate.  But while my gratitude lingered and increased over the coming days, my initial surprise only lasted a minute.  Of course, I thought with motherly approbation.  Of course.  

I tried to casually rush Lucy in and out of the shower that Valentine's morning.  The award was a big secret.  She had no idea.  I nonchalantly recommended she wear her locket with Wes's picture.  "It is Dad's birthday tomorrow, after all,"  I said.  She smiled and agreed it would be appropriate.  

After arriving at school, my energy was entirely consumed with getting all my Kindergarteners to the bathroom before the hour+ long assembly.  And helping them carry their chairs the right way, and reminding them of the words to the song, etc, etc.  

Those little ones behaved admirably and I appreciated the brief remarks our founder Caroline Sherette made at the beginning of the assembly about the reasons behind award ceremonies such as these.  I agreed with both of her points, that we learn so much from watching others and striving to emulate their admirable qualities, and that we also learn a lot from the opportunity to support someone else in a moment of success.  

The whole event was sincerely powerful - watching each candidate walk forward to receive his/her award, serenaded by a few moments of Josh Groban singing, "You Raise Me Up," then seeing them stand, surrounded by family, for the duration of the homeroom teacher's heartfelt tribute.  

I was glad to read the tribute for my little Tanner, and then sat down to wait with a few butterflies in my stomach through the first and second grade awards.  I held my breath with the rest of the audience as Mrs. Sherette announced, "And the Builder of the Year for the Third Grade is..."

I turned around as quickly as I could to see Lucy's reaction.  I swear it was slow motion.  The music playing.  Her fists fixed up in the air and her gaze locked with mine as she took her initial steps forward.  And then the tears. 

It was like watching an Olympic gold medalist. Like watching a complete dream come true.  

Spencer and my parents and I surrounded Lucy.  The music and applause subsided as Mr. Crippen read his thoughtful tribute,

but Lucy's tears continued to stream down her face as she listened to his words. 

Her sincere gratitude and joy touched all of us that day.  

And I pray that she - and I! - will long remember all of those sweet feelings.

There was a little reception after the assembly, during which Spencer ate cookies, and doughnuts, and handfuls of gummy bears while Lucy offered sheepish thanks to the many dear friends and strangers who came to congratulate her.

Such a sweet, memorable day!

Followed by Wes's birthday Saturday.  We set out to enjoy the good weather in Provo, but five minutes into our journey Lucy quietly wondered if we could go back to get her award.  She wanted to take it with us to Dad's spot.

Of course we could go back.  

But what I hope she knows is that Wes and I are proud of her with or without any awards.  That we love her and her brother simply because they're ours.  

And that watching them play hide and seek among the headstones at the cemetery, 

and sharing a few cups of German Chocolate Crunch afterward,

 is as much a gift as any gold star.