Friday was Isabel's first day of Kindergarten. After what I witnessed that morning and every morning since then, I now firmly believe we are making the right choice by sending her, and I am convinced she was tailor-made for school. She woke up promptly at 6:15 AM--that's actually normal for her, my little early bird. She came running out of her room, wide-eyed and ready to take on the world. As she ate breakfast, Ren and I explained some rules and regulations to be followed, gave her a loving pep talk, got her ready and she headed out the door to wait for the bus. Yes, the bus. We offered to drive her and walk her to her class, but she insisted on taking the bus to her new school. She wanted the whole public school experience from start to finish. I never rode the bus as a child, and I can't even imagine riding it the first day of a new school. But Isabel challenged that big, yellow, government vehicle with all the Buckland Confidence she could muster. And she was the victor. The bus came, stopped right in front of our house, she bounded down the driveway, climbed up and grabbed a seat, and we waved and smiled as she drove away.
I didn't cry when she drove away. And I didn't cry while she was at school. I was so busy with the other three at home that I barely had time to miss her. Before I knew it the big, yellow bus was bringing her safely back home. She told me all about her day and couldn't wait to go back.
But I did cry. What she doesn't know, is that very first morning I woke up before everyone else and couldn't go back to sleep until I prayed for my precious firstborn child. I cried and poured my heart out to God to bless my daughter with success, favor, and opportunities that I never had. Yeah, I know it's just Kindergarten. So maybe I am being a bit melodramatic. But it's a new beginning for her. And one that I hope and pray that, for her, will be a wonderful start.
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