Fall was difficult for me this year. I was exhausted from a busy year of remodeling, change, and travel. I wanted and needed the emotional connection I get from subbing experiences, but I also felt reticent to take paying jobs that co-workers needed more than I did. I still wanted to teach, but decided to go to the bottom of the list.
So calls were few, or at least far between. It was a long dry period. What should have been a productive time at home turned into loneliness and isolation. Larry and I were still traveling -- four trips in two months -- but short connections on the road couldn't make up for friends I missed.
By the start of the new year, I became determined to get out, even if it was totally on a volunteer basis, and made arrangements to volunteer three days a week. "I'll do special projects, help in classrooms, or just observe...." I'd told the staff, "as long as it's ok that I come to the school." I was welcomed, and projects long overlooked were pulled from the bottom of the stack. I like detail work, and I like organizing. These were great solutions for my boredom.
Then the principal asked if I'd be willing to help an ESL staff member who was struggling to pass a test she needed in her work. "Of course, I'd love to!" I responded, and we immediately began meeting with Lupe after school, 3-4 PM, the three days/week I was at school. Many of those days Lupe worked with a special needs student much of the day; we studied together for an hour; then she rushed home to prepare a quick supper before returning for another 2 1/2 hours of evening childcare during the school's parent assistance programs. She worked hard, days, evenings, weekends. We became very tight friends, she very grateful for someone helping her decipher what to study, and me glad for an outlet for my "teaching" itch. I felt a purpose realized once again, and a gift given and received. Word got around about Lupe's diligent efforts, and this much loved teacher was admired again for her tenacity.
The test was today. Lupe was ready. She has gained incredible understanding of English and math in the five short weeks we've worked, and I was convinced she could easily bridge the 17 points needed to pass. I actually anticipated a 30 point climb beyond all her previous scores.
But the unexpected happened. Murphy's law? How often does injustice come to the most deserving? Too many. But how many times does the eager champion smile and say, "It's OK"? I was humbled.
Lupe had planned to arrive a little early, and was mentally and physically ready for the test. One other woman was also scheduled for the test today. She was insecure, and continually interrupted Lupe's concentration, asking Qs about the test, the restroom, and general chatter. It threw off Lupe's rhythm. She improved her score, but only gained 11 of the 17 points she needed. We were both disappointed.
Lupe told me a test proctor told her that when she next re-takes the test, if anyone else is testing, the proctor will take Lupe and the laptop into another room, to test in private. Someone else witnessed the injustice.
Why could Lupe not have received her prize today? With all her co-workers cheering and several helping her study, why could have Providence not seen fit to reward her diligence?
I think Lupe is known among the angels as an earthly saint who can be counted on to bear a cross for another. She is a very sweet spirit who communicates with intensely needy children, and can comfort and direct them, yet also care for family, co-workers, and other adults.
I was not the giver, in this story. I was the receiver. I received much more gratitude than I deserved, and also a lesson -- that I also deserved. Lupe achieved an amazing accomplishment! The greatest accomplishment was her sweet spirit, happiness regardless of the outcome! She realized this other lady, working toward the same goal, needed her kindness and patience -- and she put that ahead of her own satisfaction. She sacrificed. I did not. I was rewarded. So how many rewards were really given?
