"But Ms. Keddington, I still love you."

One of my favorite children’s books is “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.”  I think I love it so much because everyone can relate to it.  We all have days like that every once in a while.  Well, last week, I had one of those days.  It was not fun.  I am not generally known for being super emotional, but that day, I couldn’t contain my emotions.  I cried all.day.long.  Now, it’s not like I was sobbing or anything.  It was more like I was weeping.  I would still teach, it’s just that there were tears streaming down my face as I did so.  But there was one moment where the crying was a little more out of control.  Luckily it was during a time when my kids were working independently while I worked with small groups of kids.  Except for on this particular day, I just sat at my computer for a bit and tried to gain control of my emotions.  One of my little boys came over and said, “Ms. Keddington, are you crying?”  I told him that I was, so naturally he asked me why I was crying.  I said, “I am just very sad today, R.  That’s all.”  He replied, “But Ms. Keddington, I still love you.”  And then he threw his little arms around my neck and hugged me tight.  This obviously made me cry even more.  Then this boy, who is usually one of the “troublemakers” in my class, went around to every single group of kids and said to them, “Guys, Ms. Keddington is crying.  We have to be extra good today and follow the rules.”  Such a sweetheart. 

R. had the best of intentions, but when word got around that I was crying, the last thing the kids wanted to do was sit and do their work.  True to the nature of young children, what they wanted to do was see me crying.  Soon I had 23 children swarmed around my chair and each one of them was trying to wriggle his or her way forward to give me a hug.  I was literally surrounded by love in that moment.  Each of my students was so concerned for my welfare, and genuinely wanted to know what was wrong and how he or she could help.

I decided to take a moment to address their concerns, as well as teach them a little something about love and compassion if I could.   I asked them to join me in a circle on the carpet.  They did so, and for the first time in a long time, they did it quietly!!!!  Once we got to the circle, our conversation went something like this:

“Boys and girls, you have noticed that I have been crying today.  How many of you have ever cried?”

***Most students raised their hands…except for my boys who are too cool for school.

“What are some of the reasons you cry?”

***Answers ranged from someone taking their crackers at lunch, to getting hurt, to being scared.

“From what I’m hearing, sometimes you are sad and cry because of things that just happen to you because life is hard.  For example, when you fall off your bike and scrape your knee, that’s not really anyone’s fault.  That just happens sometimes.  But sometimes we also cry because of things that other people do.  For example, when someone says mean things to you at recess, you are sad because of a choice someone else made.  That is sometimes really hard.

“Well, today, boys and girls, I am sad because someone I care about a great deal has made some choices and said some things that have hurt my feelings.  This is hard for me because I try to be kind to everyone, and it is hard for me to understand why other people would do things to me that are not kind.  Have any of you ever felt sad because of choices other people have made?”

***At this point, many of my students raised their hands and shared things that made them sad.  They included things like parents getting arrested, parents drinking too much and fighting, parents staying in Mexico and sending their son to America, and classmates mocking other students.

***Also, by this point, a few of the children were also in tears, and I was wondering what in the world I had gotten myself in to.  Was I scarring these children for life? 

Then, a beautiful thing happened.  One of my students said, “Wait, F., your dad got arrested?  Wow.  That must make you so sad.  I’m sorry.”  There were murmurs of agreement all around the circle.  This wonderful, beautiful circle of precious children of God.  The next thing I knew, I was just watching as little acts of compassion and love were performed.  V. stood up and got a box of tissues and handed a tissue to every person who was crying.  A. put her arm around J. and started whispering things like, “It’s going to be okay.”  E. said to F., “My dad got arrested once.  I know how you feel.”

My heart overflowed with gratitude as I watched the scene unfold.  When we had come to the carpet, I had been determined to teach them about compassion and love.  But what I realized in that moment was that compassion and love are already in us.  We just have to be taught how to let it out. 

I asked my students if they had ever heard the word compassion before.  Some said they had, but most had not.  I told them that compassion meant caring about other people, and doing whatever we can to meet their needs and help them be happy.  Then I pointed out the acts of compassion I had just witnessed.  I told them that simply being a friend is an act of compassion.  They then came up with their own examples of compassion—inviting someone to play with them at recess, helping a friend walk to the nurse’s office when she got hurt, standing up for a friend who was being teased at lunch.  I pointed out to them that those things were acts of compassion.

Then we talked about why it is so important to be compassionate.  E. said, “Ms. Keddington, we are compassionate because when people are sad, we want to make them happy.”  Such a simple statement, but so true.  We are here on Earth to be happy.  Sometimes things happen that make us unhappy, so we sometimes rely on others to help us be happy.  Sometimes it’s the other way around—other people are unhappy, and it’s our job to make them happy.  Wouldn’t the world be such a better place if people understood that one, simple truth?  When people are sad, we should do our best to make them happy again.  The end.  So much hate, confusion, anger, and fear could be done away with if everyone lived that way.  I know that in those few moments with my students, my confusion, anger, and fear were definitely done away with because of the compassion I witnessed.  Turns out love and compassion work miracles.

And that was pretty much the end of our carpet experience that day.  I wish I could say that my students were kind and compassionate for the rest of the day… but I can’t.  5 minutes later it was, “Ms. Keddington, he took my pencil!”  or “Ms. Keddington, she looked at me!”  But, for a few glorious moments, we all just forgot ourselves for a bit, and loved our guts out.  And for that, I will be forever grateful.