Word of Hope

 Remember

Eighteen years ago, I was a fourth grade teacher in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia. I had just announced to my class that I was going to have a baby in December. As nine and ten year olds go, there was some excitement from mostly the girls, but all had questions. Announcing big events in your personal life as a teacher is both important to do at times and should also be done with sensitivity. A teacher’s hope is that business as usual is assumed as soon as possible for maximum learning, no matter the news.

A few days had passed since the big announcement and one of my students approached me as I sat at my computer before the start of school. He presented me with an ornate box to open. “It’s for your baby. It will bring him good luck and health.” Opening the box revealed a beautiful etched glass covered bowl with 100 cranes and other folded animals inside. I took it home and proudly placed it on the dresser in our not-yet-finished nursery.

Since that day, the cranes have traveled with Zach to each new house in which we have lived. Occasionally, I will pull out a few and tell the story to him again. We usually sit there and look at them and tell stories. Sometimes we ask each other questions as we look. Just this week we unpacked the bowl again. “Do you still want this?” I asked. We again took out the brightly colored folded paper and remarked at what a kind gesture it was for that family to gift this to Zach. I realized, finally, then that the gift was actually for me, and that my student Albert had no idea what he had set up for years, eighteen of them so far, down the road. You see, sitting on a teenager's bed talking about moving, and what “luck” or “prosperity” means is without any question a gift. Over and over now, Albert gave us the chance to be quiet and to do it together, sifting through paper and memories.

Remembering what God has done in my life seems easier when I have quiet and a means of looking back. It doesn’t have to be paper cranes. It could be recipes, photos, quilts, old shoes, or little snapshots stuck in your mind with no place to go. I think that this is an important thing to do right now. Remember, even in the recounting of not so joyous times. In this extra time at home, with more time to be silent or back-looking than before, we may do well to lean into that. It may bring some extra hope. We have been down many roads but we have continued to live in faith and hope. Extending a gift to someone you care about to bolster that “remembering” attitude may last years upon years.  It did for me.   

The Rev. Laura Masterson