Helen Keller

"The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart." ~Helen Keller

This quote hangs on a plaque in my classroom.

Next week I'll pull it out of a box I feel like I just packed up, prepping my room to welcome a hundred and fifty new souls for the year, reminding myself while glancing at it that I mustn't judge my students by what comes out of their mouths (anything you can imagine) or what they smell like (pretty stinky, if you're curious). I must always strive to go deeper--they're all beautiful, in their own way (my teacher friends are snickering).

In the meantime, I'm trying hard to savor the last moments of this summer--a summer that eight weeks ago I didn't think I'd survive.

But we found our routine, and we know longer cry as a unit of three--mom and two boys--in fact, this mom feels pretty capable these days.

Part of our routine is monday afternoon at the library.

As soon as we walk in, Will asks the same question.

"What is that smell?"

It's sweat and yuck, from the folks escaping the heat of the summer mixed with old books that haven't been checked out in years and a dash of dust and must.

"Unpleasant," I reply.

Will considered the library his own Blockbuster store--good for movies and not much else. We head straight for the DVDs, grab a new Mickey Mouse, and then I steer him to the books.

At the beginning of the summer I had to force him into the books, selecting one for him about dinosaurs, bugs, hamburgers, or Mickey. Today, he ran there himself, and even picked out his own.

Helen Keller: The World in Her Heart

"Really buddy?"

"Yeah, I want that one."

"No dinosaurs today?"

"I want that one mama!"

We snuggled in tonight to read.

As I read the last page, he grabbed my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine, as we often do when he and I pretend to be scared during summer storms.

Only this time, he didn't pretend to be scared. He just held it. And listened.

"What is love? Helen spelled.
Love is here, Teacher wrote as she held Helen's hand to her heart.
Helen looked confused, so teacher tried to explain. Love is . . . she began.
No, she corrected, swiping across Helen's palm with her hand.
She started again.
You cannot touch love, but you can feel the sweetness that it pours into everything. Without love you would not be happy or want to play.
Is that love? Helen asked as she pointed to the sun, with its warmth shining down on the day.
Love is here, Teacher wrote as she held Helen's hand to her heart."

My teacher, who took my hand and taught me patience and strength this summer, so that I may go and teach others.