During the final months of 2009, I received continual reminders of our depth and breadth as a vibrant school community. Since Thanksgiving, meaningful and moving events were virtually nonstop. From the All-School Dance Recital to theChristmas performances and our 31st Lessons and Carols Services in the Lower School, to additional CIF championships in girls tennis and football (our second and fourth consecutive, respectively), I was reminded of both the extraordinary talents of our students and the manner in which these gifts are shared with all of us.
One of the huge benefits of my job is that I have the daily privilege of seeing our students across all four divisions of the school, from three-year-olds to 18-year-olds, and watching their growth from children to mature adults. I am continually amazed at the difference a year makes, and how students always seem to rise to the challenge and more than meet our expectations. There is also a part of me that stands in awe of the passage of time, of the realization that those gown-up students with their beautiful voices, dazzling smiles and strong, athletic bodies once walked hand-in-hand into the Preschool Christmas Program and sang (or shouted) “Go Tell It on the Mountain.”
As our football team wrapped up another championship season in the rain and the slop in Ontario, the clock seemed to stand still for just a moment as large, young men in what were once white uniforms became little boys once again as they belly-flopped across the field through the biggest mudhole they could find. I’m not exactly sure how many of those players moved through the rites of passage at St. Margaret’s, but regardless, it was reassuring to know that no matterhow important the event or how challenging and stressful the experience, even our biggest “boys” still have a lot of kid still in them!
During our break for Christmas and time with family and friends, I was reminded of Katrina Kenison’s book, Mitten Strings for God: Reflections for Mothers in a Hurry. Her message, in part, is that “in simplicity there is freedom—freedom to do less and to enjoy more,” and she offers suggestions “for seeing the sacred in the ordinary. . . for turning our homes into havens where peace and creativity can flourish, and where we feed not only our children’s bodies and intellects but their souls as well.” What a wonderful message for a time of ever-increasing extravagance and commercialism.
My hope for all of us is that we can somehow learn to slow down the pace and make time in our lives for what Kenison describes as the “gift of an ordinary day.” The author writes, “When I stop speeding through life, I find the joy in each day’s doings, in a life that cannot be bought, but only discovered, created, cherished, and lived.” This, of course, is no small challenge. We are clearly a fast-paced culture in which days blur together and to-do lists seemingly drive our every action. Yet, thankfully, there is “the kid” in each of us, too, and it is usually in those moments of simplicity and innocence (“the sacred in the ordinary”) that we reconnect, recenter and “feed our souls.”
Best wishes to you and your family for a healthy, happy and peaceful 2010.