Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. My shanah maidehlahs (little sweet girls) made Valentine’s for their classmates, their teachers and for me and my Mrs., and Gatsby too! When I came home from work, I was stunned by the artwork left for me to see, the prizes of love. Notes, cards, pictures, 2 boxes of Egyptian Licorice Tea (OMG!!!) and a bag of black licorice. They know me well.
I read Luka’s poem and I couldn’t help but tear up.
I cried I bawled Her perspective is so different from my own growing up. My only wish is that Little and Big, my beautiful kinder (children), may we do our very best to do right by you, always and forever.
My poem at 8 years of tender age would be very different:
When I Think of Home
When I think of ‘home’ I think of cleanliness and order
When I think of ‘home’ I am not allowed on my bed until 8pm
When I think of ‘home’ my sister is wisely absent
When I think of ‘home’ I smell the stench of pine-sol
When I think of ‘home’ I think of disappearing
When I think of ‘home,’ I am unhappy
When I think of ‘home’ I think of entering through the garage
When I think of ‘home’ I hear the voices that tried to shatter me
When I think of ‘home’ I think of the dis-ease that was enabled
When I think of ‘home’ I see rooms not to be entered
When I think of ‘home’ I think antiseptic and sterile
When I think of ‘home’ of think no life lives here
When I think of ‘home’ I am dirty and wrong
When I think of ‘home’ I don’t matter as much
As the things we acquired or the rooms we can’t touch
To all the kinder (children) everywhere, live out loud, make a mess, make beautiful and loving memories. That little ones, you so deserve.
You know what? After a good cry, your heart is lighter. (Az mi veint rich ois, vert gringer afn hartz)
Thank you my friends, for letting me share. To dare to be open and vulnerable among you.