Sorting Things Out

School was out last Friday, and I would have to say it was bittersweet.  I mean, who doesn't look forward to a break in their routine.  I certainly do.  However, I had a really sweet group of students and I am going to miss them . . . a lot.  (Notice that is two words, not one.  Something we try to master in 5th grade.) 

As I think back over the year, I realize we shared a lot of life with each other.  One student had a beloved dog die, one lost a grandparent, and we had three broken arms.  There were nosebleeds, loose teeth, braces, and, ah yes, glasses.  It's interesting how different students navigate these events.  Take braces for instance.  Some kids purposely choose the neon colored ones so everyone will be sure to notice.  Others, slink into class, mouths tightly sealed, strangely mute for the entire day.  (This can be a good thing.)  Glasses are much the same, though I believe more kids secretly harbor a desire to wear them.  Most adjust quite well.  They seem to understand it as a rite of passage.  Notice I say most, because I can remember at least one child who needed a little encouragement to put on her new glasses.  In spite of the fact that she was practically feeling her way down the halls, she did not want to wear them.  After cutting out paper glasses for everyone in the class to wear, I decided a poem might fit the occasion, and so I wrote "Meghan's Glasses."

Meghan's Glasses
Mom took me to the doctor
'Cause I couldn't see that well
The doctor had an eye chart
And he wanted me to tell

The letters that I saw there
And the top row looked just fine
But when I viewed the next row
The letters seemed to intertwine

The first one was the letter B
Or was it number 8?
The lines appeared quite hazy
And I wasn't doing great

The doctor said, "That's good enough."
And I knew just what that meant
I'd be getting glasses
And I started to lament

"The kids'll call me four-eyes;
They'll say that I'm a nerd.
I simply refuse to wear them."
Mother said, "Don't be absurd."

We left the doctor's office
And headed to the mall.
That usually would excite me
But this time, not at all.

'Cause we passed right by the food court,
And we didn't stuff a bear;
Mom headed straight to VisionWorld
Where I tried on my first pair.

They were big, and black, and awful,
And they overpowered my face
I stuck my lower lip out,
And I howled in distaste.

Mom said we'd try some others,
But they all seemed just as bad;
The salesman said I'd have to choose
'Cause that was all they had.

And though I didn't want to,
I knew I might as well,
So I settled on the blue ones
And then we bid the man farewell.

Mom said I had to wear them,
So I slowly slipped them on,
And suddenly the world looked new;
The blurriness was gone.

The next day I was nervous
As I headed off to school;
I knew the kids would laugh at me
And some would just be cruel.

I pulled my coat around me
And I tried to look real small;
I slid into my seat
And no one noticed me at all.

I got a sticker on my warm-ups
'Cause I could read the words just fine,
And in math, I knew the answers
'Cause I could see the division sign.

It wasn't until recess
That my best friend stopped to stare.
And she said, "There's something different."
But by then, I didn't care.

So I said, "It's my new glasses.
They really help me see."
"I've always wanted some," she said.
I think she envied me.

So that's the story of my glasses
I've learned they're not that bad to wear,
And by the way . . . I'm getting braces,
And I don't even care.