Mistakes Made

I have learned many things throughout these last months. One pill that never gets any easier to swallow is that of mistakes I have made. I'm not speaking to common every day mistakes, but the mistakes made that you wish so intensely could be taken back. Mistakes that affected others, and weren't meant to.

Today I made a mistake that I want nothing more than to take back.
I have a student in my room living in foster care. This child has a spark, a smile and a spirit about him that cannot go unnoticed. He is a wonderful student and friend. The days he is able to visit his birth mom his spirits are lifted even higher. I cannot even imagine living the life he leads.

This morning I taught a lesson on developing a mental image as you read. I gave each child a piece of paper and had them draw what they saw as I read the story. The students responded well to this activity and were excited to use their crayons to make their images brighter. I collected the images and noticed that all of the students had turned in brightly colored papers. All but one student. This student turned in a pencil drawing of a house that had been scribbled over. I asked this student why he chose to draw a bland picture and asked him if he wanted to add more color. He responded with a quick, "no." I'm sad to say that with the hustle and bustle of teaching I took his "no" as a "good enough" answer as I had 19 other students waiting for their next direction. The day got away from me and I didn't think twice about this picture which was now resting in the abyss, that is my "to be graded" folder.

After recess I went to gather up the children from outside. I had two students crying. One girl and the boy. Apparently the boy had thrown a rock at the girl out of anger. I sent the girl to the office to the nurse and the boy was asked to sit on a bench while I settled the other students. I got the students settled and then moved out into the hall to chat with him. He was emotional and I hugged him asking him what had happened. He told me it was an accident, and I explained that he should get himself together and come inside when he is calmed down and apologize to the girl he had unintentionally hurt. He agreed.

The day continued to pass by me. My coordinating teacher talked with me during our prep hour. She told me "why" this boy was so upset (as she had more time to get to the bottom of it while I was teaching). She explained to me that this boy had found out last night that his birth mother was losing her rights as his parent. He found out, as a second grade boy, he was going to lose his mother.

As if this wasn't bad enough....I recalled the story I read aloud to the class during our mental image lesson. The title of the story was, "A chair for my mother." A chair for my mother. Upon this realization my heart sunk. I so wish I would have chosen another book. I had no idea, but if I could take it back I would. This boy, finding out he is losing his mother, and then the next day is asked by his teacher to draw a bright picture about a mother. One thing he will not have soon. A mother.