Hang on for what may be a stretch—the imaginative connection between Jesus’ farewell to his friends, a selection of the gospel read in some churches this weekend, and schools all over the country drawing their years to a close. Both events are full of goodbyes and glories.
In the glory department, consider the first grade teacher who begins the year with three students at a kindergarten level. They have no pre-reading or writing skills as the other children do; they require a separate curriculum. Their teacher puts in many hours after school; volunteers work one-on-one with these children. Initially, they resist the nudge to work by creating games with pencils and erasers. Cheerful and apparently happy, they have little to no focus on the subject matter. When other children hunker down with a chrome book on their own, they look for chances to play.
Fast forward to May. Amazingly, these three are now slowly but surely reading. It feels like wheels are turning as they connect letters with sounds to say aloud. They can even sound out a word, approximate its spelling and form wobbly letters on a page. Only a total cynic could say a miracle hasn’t occurred. Inch by inch, this trio has acquired the basics of skills that will get them not only through second grade and further education, but life.
Recently, I saw a Treasury of Dick and Jane, which must’ve been designed for Baby Boomers who learned to read with this little family. Father wore a coat and tie, Mother an apron and heels, and Baby Sally was endearingly round. The pastel illustrations and simple sentences brought back a rush of emotion: This was the beginning. For me, reading has enriched a lifetime, starting with children’s authors like Beverly Cleary and Katherine Paterson or series like Nancy Drew. It’s helped me endure boring stretches, long flights and disappointing days. Without it, life would be colorless and bleak. Fear of losing vision for reading keeps me eating spinach and popping eye vitamins.
On the back cover of my book, A Generous Lap: A Spirituality of Grandparenting there’s a photo of six grandchildren and meself, all of us wearing t-shirts that proclaim, “I’dRather Be Reading.” Our stance applies to all the arts: I marvel when a choir director wrangles middle schoolers into memorizing lyrics, rehearsing, producing beautiful sound and performing their spring concert. Easily distracted and improbable vocalists, they concentrate on the leader, move in disciplined ranks, and master difficult harmonies.
Praise to teachers, students and May, the season for grateful graduations, goodbyes, beginnings—all giving glory to God.
Kathy Coffey 