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Wow, it has been a long time since I've posted anything. I'm still kicking, so I guess that's a good thing.
Can't remember if I ever told anyone this, but I am currently a Para at one of the local elementary schools here. I work with 2nd - 5th graders on a daily basis. Well, on Friday, in the 5th grade class, the teacher had the student do some free writing. They could write about anything as long as they wrote something. I didn't really have much to do other than help with the occasional spelling issue. So, I decided to write something too. This just came to me suddenly and it end up being really profound. I read it to the class, and the teacher and students all praised me for it. This is after most of the class had written and shared (some I feel more profound than mine).
Can't remember if I ever told anyone this, but I am currently a Para at one of the local elementary schools here. I work with 2nd - 5th graders on a daily basis. Well, on Friday, in the 5th grade class, the teacher had the student do some free writing. They could write about anything as long as they wrote something. I didn't really have much to do other than help with the occasional spelling issue. So, I decided to write something too. This just came to me suddenly and it end up being really profound. I read it to the class, and the teacher and students all praised me for it. This is after most of the class had written and shared (some I feel more profound than mine).
The Hallways
I walk down the hallways.
I know where I'm going, but not what to expect when I get there.
Everyday is a different story; a different trial or tribulation; a different triumph.
Each story is not much different from the next, but some more extreme than others.
I weave myself in-between the lines; shaping lives; shaping dreams.
In the end, have I made a different?
Does walking down the hallways really do any good?
Did it all matter?
I hope so.
I walk down the hallways.
I know where I'm going, but not what to expect when I get there.
Everyday is a different story; a different trial or tribulation; a different triumph.
Each story is not much different from the next, but some more extreme than others.
I weave myself in-between the lines; shaping lives; shaping dreams.
In the end, have I made a different?
Does walking down the hallways really do any good?
Did it all matter?
I hope so.
contemplative