Pin It I love my job.
Don’t get me wrong.
But some days are just hard.
There are moments when one feels like a glorified babysitter: dealing with problems, trying to get the kids to be nice to each other, tutoring long after most others have gone, as well as trying to teach the curriculum during the course of a day which is much too short already—and yet far too long in the same breath.
As I left the building this evening, the sun was rapidly making its descent into the western skyline; a barrage of color ignited the azure horizon with rusty blood and saffron.
Another calendar day was done. Another battle fraught with hard work completed. It was now time to go home and recharge for yet another voyage into the fray on the morrow.
Yet, I felt content for the day. A wholesome meal was only moments away, and a drive home fraught with the music I love.
I climbed into my car and put the keys into the ignition. It was then that I saw the torn piece of notebook paper held under my windshield wiper, fluttering lightly in the gentle evening breeze like eggshell sparrow wings. It had been hastily torn from a student’s notebook.
I climbed from my car to investigate.
I was invigorated; the batteries were already starting to recharge.
The sunset was twice as beautiful as it was before.
Sufficient was the day.