First Day of First Grade
Dear Lucas,
Today was your first day of school, the first day of first grade. It was an exciting day for all of us. You woke up and got dressed right away! You ate your breakfast without complaint! You were ready to head out the door before any of the rest of us! It was fantastic!
You posed for pictures without objecting. Your beautiful face shone with a quiet pride. You said things like, "Mom, aren’t you glad I passed kindergarten?" As if we ever had the slightest doubt about your abilities, your character, or your brilliance.
You jumped into the car without dilly-dallying. You marched down the steep hill to school, holding my hand the whole way. I loved it. You were nervous. We could tell. But you bravely strode on. You faced dozens of all-new experiences today with grace and dignity and courage. Your father and I are so, so proud of you.
You found your desk and cubby. You greeted old friends and new ones. You shook your new teacher’s hand as she welcomed you to your classroom. You were the last child in line to sit with your classmates at the assembly, sitting right on the edge of the row nearest us. We watched you while the administrator spoke, introduced the faculty, and welcomed all the students back to school. You patiently waited in your chair without much figeting—just a little nose picking.
We photographed you during the ceremony, sitting right beside your teacher and your buddies. You received a flower from a second grader, as is traditional. You then boldly took the hand of a high school senior you had never met before and allowed her to tour you around the school, showing you the classrooms, the play yards, and probably telling you that you are going to be happy here. I wondered if you would someday gently take the hand of a nervous first grader and tour him or her around the school, saying "Welcome. This is a good school. You’ll be fine here."
I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel sad to see my baby all grown up and ready for first grade. I did feel some overwhelming feelings, though. The strongest was pride in you, for you are a magnificent boy. The other feelings washing over me this morning were boundless joy to see you in a school where you will be loved, nurtured, respected for the person you are; fervent hope that you will grow and learn and love your school experiences and your friends; and profound gratitude that you are my son and have graced my life with your presence and love these last seven years.
Congratulations, my son. And welcome to first grade!
Love always,
Mama
September 2, 2008 at 11:04 pm
I love the tradition of the flowers. Here’s to more positives!
September 3, 2008 at 8:41 am
You know what’s twisting my noodle? The hair and shirts of the boys in the pics are almost identical to the fashions shown in my first grade pictures from 1978. Trippy.
September 3, 2008 at 10:28 am
He’s such a beautiful young man. What a big day! Thanks for sharing this letter with us. I wonder if he will read it one day.
September 3, 2008 at 10:36 am
I look at the long sweeping forelocks of pre-teens and teenaged boys these days and think much the same. It’s straight out of memory.
September 3, 2008 at 12:20 pm
Thanks! I think it’s going to be great. It might take him a little while to settle in and get used to desks and stuff, but it’s going to be a good year for him.
September 3, 2008 at 12:21 pm
I know! It surprised me when he picked out the brown/orange shirt to wear. Takes ya right back.
September 3, 2008 at 12:24 pm
Thank you! I wonder that too. I guess I write them with that possibility in mind; perhaps someday he will want to read them.
Sometimes I write to ensure that he will know me, and know how completely I love him, in case I leave this world too soon.
September 3, 2008 at 10:55 pm
I thought the same thing! Well, fashion is cyclical…
September 4, 2008 at 9:44 am
It would be cool to put them in a folder or something to give to him on his 18th birthday.