are we there yet

When I was a child I remember fighting to not ask the question dreaded by every parent when in a vehicle with their children: are we there yet? Well, I am "there yet." My first year of teaching in China is coming to a close. In two weeks I will not have 15 precious boys to kiss good morning, tickle and throw over my shoulder when they are crying or teach them how to do just about anything under the sun. It's been an amazing year. Dynamic, difficult, rewarding, and now, bittersweet.

I'm sitting at Starbucks writing a report for each of them so I can attempt to express to their parents just how congming (smart), vibrant, and for lack of a better adjective, wonderful they are. The little boy whose report I'm currently working on will be leaving next week, one week short of the full year. He's leaving early because he's moving to the States. Luckily his English is probably the best in the class, or at least his learning rate is the fastest. I had a "this is why I teach" moment with him last week. He's Korean, but he speaks Chinese and now English. I asked him who taught him Chinese, mommy or daddy, because he could speak it before he came.

"Did Daddy teach you, Terry Lee?"

"No, Mommy did."

His parents speak a little English and his older sister as well who attends college in Philadelphia. I asked if they helped him with English, too.

"Who taught you English Terry Lee? Did Mommy or Daddy?"

"No. Miss LaRee [did]."

It's been worth it. I know everyone says that at the end of a hard experience, and it's very easy to romanticise the whole experience, but coming to EtonHouse in China was the right choice. I'm sure of it. If you could hear the difference in my kids' English, if you could see the progress they've made in their social interactions, if you could feel their hands in yours when they are scared, if you could differentiate between their types of shrieks, if you could have been there the day I got to pray over them, if you could hear the way they say my name, if you could begin to understand that His love is the only way to make it through one of Alex's tantrums, if you could see their eyes when something clicks, if you could let them step on your toes just so they can giggle because you are so strong in their eyes, if you could watch them eat, if you could know which is their favorite superhero, if you could have been with them the first day of school and if you could kiss them two more times after promising it's the last...then you'd know it was worth it. But if you could see the change in me...that's the true miracle I think. They are wonderful creatures just beginning to blossom. I, however, am older, more set in my ways and not as teachable. But my oh my what He has taught me through their little hands and hearts. It literally hurts to let them go.

I guess one day I'll have children in the backseat of my car with ice cream smeared down their shirts, my boys will be hitting each other, another will have to pee, the cd player will have just broken and I'll hear the inevitable question, "Are we there yet?" Then I'll sadly have to answer "no." I praise the Lord I have to regretfully answer "yes" this time.

Thank you for your prayers, letters, emails, and faithful reading. I'll see you all in July, and I'll begin writing again in August when I return for my second year.