Friday, March 29, 2013


The moment I (no...we :), definitely WE...y'all have been so awesome and amazingly supportive ) have all been waiting for came yesterday.  Arrow emailed me and said they had a referral of a little girl and to call them as quickly as I could.  I stepped into another room and called her back, but she wasn't available.  (Oh. The. Agony!)  I left my phone on, told my kiddos it would ring and not to react (hey, I've taught long enough to know they'll react ;)) and kept on teaching.  10 minutes later, it rings and the comedy of chaos begins.

The room I stepped into the first time, now has kids in it.  There is another empty room in our pod, so I head that way.  I stop at J's room to tell her to watch my kids, but she doesn't see me and I'm snapping at her to get her attention, because the lady is talking to me on the phone the whole time giving me details of this child!  The kids get her attention and she's so excited, because she knows what's happening and we kinda squeal together (except I'm on the phone, so mine is a silent squeal), and then I head into the empty room which is right beside hers, but it's locked and I have a key, but it's not opening, and I'm now calmed down enough to start listening to the lady on the phone and hear some PRECIOUS details and my heart is already racing, but it definitely picks up speed and I look at J and S (who has joined us for the excitement) urgently and mouth "help me!" and they bust me into the room and then J goes to keep an eye on my class.

I'm in the room for 30 seconds before I hear that this little one is 4, but will turn 5 on Saturday.  I tell her I'm a teacher and she has to be able to come to school with me, and I don't think that will work, but I will need to hang up and go talk to my principal and call her back.  I run down the hall to Beverly's office.  I knew.  I knew a child's birthday has to be before a certain date, but the hope...
Beverly confirmed that there wasn't anything we could do, and I called the lady back to say, "no."  She said she knew my license was for 5-10, but she thought she'd try, and we hung up.  I walk down the hall, back towards my classroom and see J and shake my head "no" and the tears come.  I think I would have been okay, if I hadn't acknowledged them, but I said, "Ugh, now I'm going to cry." and then the floodgates opened, and I lost it.  Thankfully no kids were around!  The art teacher walked by and was probably like, "Um, there's a lady crying in the hall....crying makes me nervous!"  (Sorry, Cory!!)

J grabbed a tissue, and I pulled it together and went back in to the classroom to teach.

It was HARD.


Oh, not teaching.  That was actually a blessing, because it got my attention off the pain.  Saying "no" was HARD.  I knew I would get phone calls and maybe not get chosen (because they call everyone that fits the parameters of a child and CPS chooses a family).  I didn't think about the pain of when I would have to be the one to say 'no.'

I know other phone calls will come.  I know the Lord has a home for the little girl they called me about yesterday.  I know His timing is perfect.  I trust Him.

It's still hard.

1 comment:

  1. giant {{{{{{{{{hugs}}}}}}}}}}
    sorry this one didn't work out. but you are absolutely right - God's timing was right for my house to sell, and it wasn't right for you to have this little girl. even if we never know the reason we must trust that its for the best, even while we acknowledge the hurt.