A whole new group of kiddos entered my life this week. Summer school started and brought with it twenty new, bright second grade faces. I greeted them at the door, smiling and eager to impart my knowledge to them throughout the next twenty days of learning and fun. I was ready.
But I forgot one important thing about my students.
The weekend before, I had injured my wrist moving furniture and by Tuesday, it was a constant source of pain. My husband picked up a wrist brace for me and I wore it to school the next day.
I stood at the door again on Wednesday, smiling and greeting my students. They smiled back, took one look at me and every single one of them asked: “Mrs. Waters! What happened to your wrist?”
Every single one of these students took the time to notice that something was different – something was amiss with their teacher that they had known for a full two days at that point. They were full of advice (I especially liked the suggestion to eat nothing but popsicles until it felt better!) and empathy.
And this got me to thinking. You see, I forgot something about these small, endearing humans for a minute. They have a great capacity to experience the world devoid of filters. They come at each new day noticing the smallest things and allowing experience to flow into them from every direction.
I was prepared to give my knowledge to them, but they taught me something on Wednesday morning. They taught me to let everything in and notice and care a little more and worry and filter a little less.
Experience comes in all sizes. And, sometimes, it comes in small packages.