I walked my daughter to her 4th grade classroom this morning. I'm so used to seeing first day of school pictures in dress code attire. It seemed so odd to me to polish light pink nails yesterday evening, to iron a bright orange skirt last night, to watch my daughter strap her brown sandals this morning.
At open house on Tuesday evening, I was a little saddened by the new surroundings. It should have helped that her classroom is the very same one in which I experienced my favorite teacher fifteen years ago. It should have helped that her teacher seems really nice, easy to get along with, and most importantly organized. It should have helped to read that spelling tests would be given every Friday instead of whenever it pleased the teacher. All those things helped me later, but at the time, I just saw a missing crucifix, missing prayers lining the hallways, missing statues of the Virgin Mother. I missed God being the center of this experience that will mold my daughter. I'm just not terribly confident in this change of ours. Thank the Lord that we were blessed with 6 years in our dear Catholic school. I just pray that she isn't afraid to wear her faith on her sleeve, to stand up for her beliefs and the truths that she had come to know and trust. I pray that she is equipped to handle the new experiences, backgrounds, and peers that she will meet this year.
It really is going to be a great year. The classroom is wonderful, and I've been assured by my trusted family friend who teaches in this 4th grade that Big Sister's teacher is a wonderful, Godly woman.