I Would Take It All Away

I would take it all away.

The mud. The mud that our students walk through every day to get to school. The mud that binds to their shoes and clothes and instantly covers everything. The mud the mamas must wash out of the kitchen and classrooms every day. The mud that coats the Land Rover and threatens to pull us off the road at a moment's notice. I would take away the mud.

The hunger. If there is no food at home, kids don't eat. I am naïve enough to think that most of our students eat at home. I know that some don't. I know that until morning breakfast, they don't have much, if anything in their bellies. I would take away the hunger.

The stress. Everything is geared toward these high stakes tests. If they don't pass these tests, they don't continue this education. End of story. The kids know this better than anyone. Add on the realities of life too. Relationships. Family. Work. All of it adds up. Our kids handle it pretty well, but I know stress is a constant companion. I would take away the stress.

The sickness. As the medical guy, I look at some weird stuff. It's escalated since the rains began. Waterborne illness. Infections. Coughs. No problem if you can get in right away and see a doctor and then get the proper medications, right? No problem… if it were possible to not walk in the mud every day. But of course…it's not. I take it hard when they are sick. I don't like it. I'm guessing they aren't that fond if it either. Still, some things I say "I just don't know what to do about that…" I would take away the sickness.

The hard life. Sometimes I look around and see these struggles and it does make me sad. I don't like to see my students walking in the rain. I don't like to see my students having to grow up so fast. I would take away this hard life.

I would take it all away.

But I don't get to make that call.

We had an all school show and tell about the clubs students participate in. Each group stood up and shared a bit about their club. Everyone was in a good mood, respectful toward their fellow students and teachers. Afterward, each student received a lollipop from their club advisor. Unfortunately, during the event one girl got sick and I was trying to attend to her. I gave out as many of my lollies to my woodworking club folks before looking after the sick girl, but I managed to miss one of my club members. I was busy with the sick girl and had quite a few "helpers" standing around which seemed to add to the chaos of the situation. I was feeling a bit stressed by everything. In the midst of things, my club member found me and quietly tapped me on the shoulder and said "teacher, I didn't get my lolly. Could I have one." It wasn't one of those snotty "I didn't get…blah, blah" retorts you might get from a teenager. Nor was it demanding. It was a simple request for something that was hers. And it was so innocent that it caught me off guard.

Maybe God gives us mud so we can learn perseverance. Maybe we get sick so we can care for one another. Maybe what I see as a "hard life" is just developing the character of someone in ways I am too limited to understand.

Or, maybe it's just mud.