Did I really just start school again for the first time in a really long time? I think I did. It all happened so fast that there wasn't time enough for emotion (thank goodness :)). I was angry though about wearing a backpack this morning and instead carried along my [teaching] school bag--that was lame. The backpack felt too much like being a school girl again, having returned to the game after student teaching two semesters. For a split second in class today, however, I felt right at home in the field of elementary education, and this is why:
In my class, we were assigned to write an impromptu free verse poem about a pet of ours and share it with the class. I've never actually done that in an EL ED class (and this was not EL ED), nor am I a poet, but it just seemed funny (and scary) like days of old being put on the spot. I dedicate my pet poem to Stabee, who started my love for "Hog Wild", Margo, who has fortified my collection through the very pet I speak of, and Janae, who is the love (and victim of terror) behind "Snort Face."
You can call me Snort Face.
Can you guess what I am?
Well, I'm pink!
I also have a snout.
And, like I said, my name is Snort Face.
I can fly through the air--are you surprised?
My owner loves me but her roommates have not.
I surprise them from inside closets, in dark rooms,
Or even from the opposite couch when they are naughty!
Boy, are they shocked to hear my cry and feel
The sting of my skin against their back side, ha ha.
They yelp--out of shock--or pain (I hope both!)
And then they call me "SNORT FACE!"
I'm good for other things too, you know.
Like cuddling with, and hiding under people's covers.
I can even be stuffed in your suitcase!
I promise to be oh so quiet so security doesn't hear. :)
Oh shoot, I just realized I'm a weapon.
Did I mention already that I can fly?
That's because I'm a slingshot. And stuffed.
Pleased to meet you!
I'm Snort Face.
Random, eh? The weirdness of it all tickled me pink. :)
On other subjects, I wanted time for pleasure reading today and that didn't happen. Now I regret it. What I don't regret though, is the best thing I did read all day: the First Vision. It gave me tinglees (yes, that's what I call it) and I believe it always can. What I'm saying is that I think if you ask, every single time you read that story it can be just as powerful as the time before. It's so refreshing to know the truth--the whole truth and the only truth. And this time I was struck by that pattern of truth individuals can have--not only in turning to prayer, but what results from "exerting all my powers" "amidst all my anxieties." We are delivered when we "Hear Him!"
