They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you.
And though they are with you, they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
Which you cannot visit, even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth...
Let your bending in the archer's hands be for happiness."
A poem for parents, and, I think, a poem for teachers. A poem for me, today, as I say goodbye to my magic children. My heart feels like it is going to burst out of my chest. I am hollow and whole at the same time. 3A, you are light, you are love, you are everything. I miss you already.
*For those who inquired yesterday, this goodbye is indeed harder than most. In April, I accepted a wonderful position at a new school for the upcoming academic year. While I am overjoyed, it doesn't make saying goodbye to my kids, my colleagues and my friends any easier.