School is in the air. Store shelves are stocked with backpacks, clothes, sneakers and a ton of school supplies. Parents maddeningly stroll through the aisles, school supply lists in hand playing a frustrating game of treasure hunt. Always looking but never finding.
Pretty soon school buses start parading down streets and neighborhoods while kids cluster around bus stops. And it’s the school buses that always take me back, particularly the small ones. Every time I see one I remember one of the hardest decisions I had to make about my son, Caleb.
All throughout preschool, I drove Caleb to school. But with a third child on the way, I wasn’t sure how that was going to work. So we were considering having Caleb ride the bus.
It was a hard choice to make. On one hand, Caleb’s language skills were limited and he wouldn’t be able to tell us if someone was bothering him or hurting him. He didn’t have words to express those feelings and that was a problem. How was he going to ask for help if he was in trouble?
On the other hand, riding the bus was a rite of passage. Caleb’s first step towards independence. Did I want to deny him that experience?
In the end, Caleb’s independence won over fears.
The first day of school
Theoretically, it was a great idea. But on the first day Caleb rode the bus, I may have regretted my decision. I was pregnant at the time, so I’m certain I wouldn’t have been so emotional if I wasn’t. And I definitely wouldn’t have followed the bus to the school like a crazy lady.
But I did – and ugly cried the whole way. You would’ve thought I was sending Caleb as a tribute for the Hunger Games, instead of his first day of kindergarten. Again, I blame pregnancy hormones. But the image of him on the bus, sitting in his seat with his feet dangling unable to touch the floor made him look so little…so vulnerable.
My pregnancy hormones were on overdrive that day for sure. I couldn’t even believe I thought it was a good idea. What if someone hurt him? What if he gets bullied? Would he even know what to do once he got to the school?
Turns out, I didn’t need to worry. There were aides who helped him get off the bus and escorted him into the school. Nevertheless, I watched him from a distance until he went inside. Then as soon as I got home, I penned him the following letter and prayer.
What I’ve learned
It’s been over 20 years since I wrote that letter to Caleb and he survived kindergarten – and every grade after. And yes, there were obstacles he had to overcome. He struggled with a few of them. But for the vast majority, he rose to the challenge and exceeded all expectations. And through it all, God never stopped holding Caleb in His mighty hands. It’s this hope that gives me peace.