$10

The selflessness of a child truly amazes me. This past week I have been talking to my children about Haiti. Although normally during worship they struggle to pay attention, I had all eyes glued to me. Every day I try to update them, and they never fail to bring up Haiti multiple times during prayer requests. I asked my children if they would be interested in starting a “Haiti Box” to help raise money. Then we could think of people to ask to donate, and maybe even have a few fundraisers. The kids were 100% for it. Later that day one of my younger boys came up to me, concern all over his face and said, “Miss, Miss I don’t know if I can bring $10” I was not quite following him and so he continued, “Well I thought I could bring $10 for Haiti because I am going to get $10 for my birthday, but my birthday is two months away…” my heart just about melted. It was such a precious moment. The concern in his eyes and the way his little forehead was all twisted. Not because he was contemplating whether or not to give his birthday money, oh no that decision was already made, but because he wouldn’t get his birthday money in time to give it away to the people of Haiti. In that moment I learned more from my 8 year old student than I could have taught him in weeks. Yuichi reminded me of the strength and simplicity of selflessness. As we grow in age and journey through our lives we strive to be great at something, to gain wisdom, to have security, but to have the selflessness of a child, now that is something to aspire to…

A memory both simple and profound.

This is a story I wrote for Walla Walla about my mission experience! I think its going to be in a mission story book or something... anyway! sorry I haven't blogged in eight hundred years :)

A Memory Both Simple and Profound

Yesterday I returned from my two week Christmas vacation in Hawaii, only to be met by 24 screaming fourth graders who all decided to jump into my arms at once. Next thing I new my two chubby twin boys were smooshing letters into my hand they had written me while I was gone, welcoming me back and telling me how much they had missed me.

The next morning there were two more letters waiting for me on my desk, my heart just about melted as I read the beautiful broken grammar of one of the letters, “Miss Breann is the best and great teacher on the Earth. Dear Miss Breann you are the greatest teacher. And you’re the best friend ever. Thank you for being my friend. And thank you for being my teacher. We love you so so much Miss Breann.”

Today, like most days, has ended with me collapsing on my dirty couch exhausted. However unlike previous days, as I collapse on this disgusting couch I reflect on my day in a new light. In a light that could only be provided by the One who brought me to this very couch, this tiny island most people have never heard of, and to a classroom of twenty four hyperactive children. For when I look back on today I no longer think of the frustrating math class where my children looked at me like I was speaking French, the aching feeling in my swollen feet from standing for so long, the seemingly never ending papers that still need grading, or the permanent sweat layer that drenched my skin. I remember Him. I remember the random salsa dance lesson I had with my kids during lunch time, the back massage that two of my boys gave me just to show me they love me, the game of tag during recess that ended in uncontrollable giggles and me being attacked and tickled by seven of my students, the piggy back race to the classroom that I lost, having my boys all pick me up and tell me they were going to kidnap me so we could all go camping together, the scribbled message at the bottom of a math assignment that simply said, “Thank you so much Miss Breann”, the hilarious Michael Jackson impersonation performed by two of my boys, and the long embrace of a child at the end of the day as he said, “Miss I’m never letting you go, we love you so so much!”.

In Jesus’ divine light, twenty four rambunctious children have taught me something more valuable than I
could ever teach them, something that I could have never learned sitting in a classroom finishing up my college degree. Through fits of giggles, little bear hugs, secret hidden notes, and pictures colored with the utmost care, I have learned how to be loved. And because of this, every day I have learned a little more of how to truly love in return.