When I tell my son's teacher I'm a writer, my son isn't exactly thrilled...

“I’m a writer.”

I have become acquainted with Cyclone’s teacher.  She’s a vivacious woman with a respect for tradition and a real interest in the abilities of her students. I have a great deal of respect for her. 

She asked me to come speak to her third grade class in my capacity as an author.  I was happy to oblige, but then I had to think:  What have I written that would be appropriate to share with a group of third graders?  Romances – even inspirational ones! – aren’t necessarily the ideal reading matter for the eight and nine year-olds. 

I remembered a story I wrote on request. It’s a “children’s story” mostly, about a fantastic, heroic dragon and the knight in shining armor that he saves. 

His teacher thought it was terrific. Great.  I told her she could share it with her students.

 

“Well, it was kind of embarrassing, Mom.”

Cyclone’s teacher shared with her colleagues.  Shared the fact that I am making "an appearance," and shared the story.  Which, of course, I had given her permission to do, in preparation for my visit.

Yesterday, Cyclone informed me that his teacher had begun reading the story out loud to her class.

“Did she say it was my story?” I asked. 
“Yes,” he said, looking out the window.
“Did she say I was your Mom?"
“Yes…”
“And…?” I asked, half-expecting to hear that my nine-year-old was proud of me.
“Well, it was kind of embarrassing, Mom,” he confessed.
Oh...“Sorry, honey,” I replied, ruffling his hair.“I didn’t mean for it to be.”
“That’s okay.”

But wait, there’s more!

This article will be published the day that I go to Cyclone’s school and speak before an audience that might number over 100.  Plus their teachers!  I wonder how embarrassed my Big Boy will be then?

I am fortunate – and so is he! – that I won’t be asked to read this story.  There is only one illustration, since it was written for a work of art that had already been created.  Third grade kids would be tired of looking at it long before the first page was finished, if I were reading aloud.

I am sure, though, that the teachers have already shared the story with their classes.  My word, but that is a bit intimidating, even for me.  I’m not used to being a public figure outside of my church family. 

Off I go, toddler in hand…

If Cyclone thinks he’ll be embarrassed Friday morning, I wonder if he’s considered how embarrassed I’ll be when – not if! – his little brother, Scooter, decides that the school library is the best playroom in the whole wide world?

Years ago, when we lived in  California, we were surrounded by relatives.  Parents and in-laws all lived in the same town, as did many of the brothers and sisters.  If I needed a babysitter, it was a matter of finding out which grandmother or aunt or uncle was willing to play with Baby Cyclone for an hour or two.

Now, our families are scattered from Southern California to Maryland, and I am more thankful for them than I was several years ago.

I’ll report back next week on how I managed to embarrass Cyclone…and if I do, indeed, get embarrassed by Scooter’s antics in the library.

Expectations

In a public school, I am not allowed, really, to share my Christ-oriented work.  But I am called to be as Christ-like as I can be! I just hope I don’t embarrass the Lord as I speak to the children on Friday in the library! 

Until next week…

Copyright 2003 Sandy Layne