It’s amazing how a little thing can mean so much. I was almost done with my grocery shopping, just an afterthought wander through the local store after having dropped off Joel’s only suit jacket at the dry cleaner’s. (Note to self… fix the small hole in the right sleeve that the sharp-eyed counter lady pointed out.) Turning in to the frozen confection aisle, I was thinking about lemon ice cups, when I felt an insistent bump at my left hip. An intent face turned up towards me. “Konnichiwa!” It was the little girl from down the street who often shows up at our door looking for 12-yr. old Elsa, who is usually kind enough to play energetically with her outside. I didn’t know how to tell her, in Japanese, that we were finally back from the lake and that Elsa would be home once again. I wondered how many times she had turned up on the door step during the three weeks that we were away. How many times had she stood and knocked with no one there to answer the door? But now we were back and school would be starting once again.

She put her hand up in the air and solemnly waited for my hand to meet it in a “high-five.” I met her hand and our fingers interlaced in a friendly, easy embrace. Her mother came around the corner as we exchanged greetings and she smiled warmly as if to say, “Kindness to my child is kindness to me.” With children, the language barrier does not seem so vast or insurmountable. The brief clasp reminded me of the gift I’ve been given. Even though the past year had tattered my confidence, the gift was still there, as solid as ever. There was that flash of understanding, a kinship with children that allows me to be young and old at the same time. Kids know that I get them. It’s easy to pay attention to them; to understand what they are saying. So much harder to understand the parents; always a struggle to stay on the adult wavelength when a child is there with so many important and honest and intriguing things to say.

Another school year starting. A year of listening and learning from the children; of finding out how to teach and reach each individual. A puzzle and a challenge worth solving. Once again I know that teaching is my bliss. It is why I am here.