Over at The Chattering Crow, Louise posted this, and I've been thinking about it for the last few days.
So here's the deal. I wasn't one of those parents who campaigned for my kids to get certain teachers when they were in elementary school. There was a part of me--a BIG part of me--that thought one of the lessons my kids should learn in this life was how to get along in a variety of situations, even if it was a less than ideal situation. And I thought the school environment was a good place to do this.
Anyway. When one of the boys was in the second grade, his teacher felt he should be assigned to a certain third grade teacher the following year. Only problem was I wanted him to have the third grade teacher the rest of my boys had had. I adored her. She was awesome. And because I'd never pitched a fit about teachers in the past, I thought I was owed this time around.
So I campaigned.
And I got my own way.
And it turned out that teacher and my son were not a good fit for each other--sort of like those couples on The Bachelor who ride off in the sunset together at the show's conclusion, only to show up accusing each other of betrayal on the cover of Star magazine a few months later.
Not that my son and his teacher were ever on the cover of Star shouting J'ACCUSE at each other. Although that would've been kind of awesome.
Of course he survived. Kids do. Meanwhile I learned an important lesson. Although I am the mom and my heart is in the right place, I don't always know what's best. I really don't.
This is a long way of saying when I pray now, I pray that the people I love most will get what they need. Even if it doesn't look that way to me. The end.