The Golden Kids of Kindergarten

If ever you feel the world is going to hell in a hand basket, I suggest you find time to spend with some kindergartners. Recently, during a trip to Mississippi to visit my son and his family, my grandson, Daniel invited me to have lunch with him and his class. Needless to say, I was overjoyed by the request.

Walking into the elementary school, I was required to check in with the secretary in the office. Once I showed my identification, she instructed me to sit in the hallway until time for lunch. My excitement had me arrive in plenty of time.

Sitting just outside the office, I enjoyed the scurry of kids walking to and from their scheduled day. Some were returning from gym, others were on their way to music. Their hallway was in full activity mode. Suddenly I heard, “Hi Nona,” and there was my Daniel. Just in from recess, he was part of the single file line lead by his teacher. He veered off the linear path to give me a hug. My heart was so happy to see him. 

But then something happened I might have loved even more. One by one, each of the kids of his class stopped to give me a hug. Oh my goodness! Such open and unencumbered warmth shared so freely by these little 5 and 6 year olds. The offering of sweet and momentary love transformed my day.

Daniel’s teacher then invited me to join the line as they made their way outside for lunch. Fall weather in Mississippi brings new meaning to glorious. The cloudless skies and cozy warm breeze provided an ideal setting. I considered for a moment a plan for relocation to The Magnolia State. The picnic feel was perfect. 

I wish you could have heard the conversation that ensued between Daniel’s table mates and me. We talked about their Halloween costumes, why their moms wouldn’t pack more cookies in their lunches. I heard about each of their teacher assigned “jobs” that week. They talked about who was on track to reach “gold” status, the teacher’s highest reward for being good listeners. Daniel’s friend Sully, was eating the school cafeteria prepared pasta with apple slices. With his elbow resting on the table, he said with a heavy sigh in that already thick Mississippi drawl, “I’m never going to get gold.” 

What? I asked him, ready to give him an old-fashioned pep talk about how great he is. Shaking his head in resignation with the heal of his hand leaning in his cheek, he added, “Everyone’s always getting me into trouble, but my mama told me if I don’t get gold, she’ll sit on me.” I nearly choked on my banana with stifled laughter. I detected no concern about Sully and his mom, and we can have a conversation another time about the current incentive programs for elementary-aged kids. What I knew, however, was given the aura of delight surrounding this young boy, Sully was already a gold status star to me.

Soon, it was time to go, and I promised Daniel I’d return to pick him up at the end of his school day. The goodbyes were collective. “Bye Nona!” I heard over and over again as I waved my way down the breezeway towards the school ground exit. My cup was overflowing.

It’s amazing how a 20-minute lunch with young people can be so renewing. As I walked to my son’s nearby home, I replayed every minute sitting beside my Daniel in his kindergarten world. Until next time, I’ll be sending golden thoughts and far-away-hugs from Ohio to all my new little Mississippi friends.