Fernando

I didn't think I could fall in love with 26 people all at the same time.

I would be surprised if God could warm my heart any more for the little kiddos I get to spend seven beautiful hours with each day. I cannot describe the love that I have for them after only two days. While I am going to very willingly and extremely excitedly board the bus headed to Michigan in a few weeks, I am going to have a really hard time leaving these kiddos. Each one has already made a significant imprint in my heart that I'm afraid will never return to normal. I am forever changed by these precious children, and I'm alright with never changing back.

As I spend more time teaching English in this second grade bi-lingual classroom, I find myself being validated that something like this is what I'd like to do for, like...forever. Already, I've established a connection with the majority of kiddos in the classroom. With a thin language barrier, we've managed to talk about everything second graders love to talk about, whether that be ice cream, the north pole, animals, or exciting new math skills. However, I've also gotten a taste of what is burried beneath talk of Spiderman and fun movies. While these kids are bright and are very academically motivated, most of them have a hidden twinge of pain in their eyes that can only be recognized by one who's felt what they've felt, seen what they've seen, and been where they've been. I feel a connection with these and I yearn for their veils to be removed and see the grace that God is placing before them. It brings me physical pain when I let myself think about the stories that these kiddos bear alone. I want so badly for God's grace to sooth them as it has sunk deep into me. I know where they've been and it agonizes me to know they're in it even as I write this. I want to rush in, capture them from their pain, and give them everything they deserve and more. I want to lead them to the One that can fill their little impressionable hearts and hold them tight so they can fly free knowing they've know Love.

Fernando, the little boy whose teacher labeled him as the slowest in the class, has tickled my heart in a very special way. Of all the children, he speaks the least English but he talks to me the most. Despite my broken Spanish and his broken English, we've formed a rich friendship based off conversations about Spiderman and Santa Clause--two of our favorite things! He jibber-jabbers at me like I know every word he's saying and waits patiently for me to understand what he's saying to me. He reads with such color and has fun in everything. I only wish I could make him understand just how special he is, but when I try to tell him, he always interrupts me and says, "No, no, no, no!" Somewhere, somebody lied to him and told him he wasn't smart enough, worth love, or of any use. They were foolish to speak such things, because the Fernando I know is anything but those things.