Sob & Circumstance

Emily graduated from kindergarten last week.  She was in the half-day program at Calvary Baptist Day School, taught by Mrs. Kistemaker (gracious, i don’t even know her first name).

Before the graduation ceremonies started, I heard a few of the moms in the audience assure each other that they had enough Kleenex.  That made me silently scoff, with a little hmpf sniff accompanied by a smile, since i found it funny in “isn’t that precious” sort of way.  I mean, it’s just kindergarten, for crying out loud.  It’s not like the tykes are heading off to college.

About one minute into the program, and i’m wishing i had my own Kleenex.  What did i know?

For me (and i think Julie had a similar reaction), it was watching Emily sing that first song with such confidence and gusto.  We’ve never seen that from her before in any sort of public setting (she’s always been very confident at home).  She also sang with enormous heart, giving you a glimpse into a future filled with love for God, and a quiet tenderness for people (other than her brother).

And when you think back to the beginning of the school year, when we were still a bit worried about whether she would even talk in class, much less sing-out in a public performance, you are floored by her progress.  You are pleased you selected this kindergarten for her.  You are so proud of how she has matured, how she is now showing the world what you knew was there all along.

It also hits you how quickly she is growing up.  And how you don’t feel ready for it.  Like a train leaving the station, and you’re still packing your suitcase.