The thing I appreciate the most about Graham County Fair is that is reminds me of how much I miss being around the kids. I’ll be honest, when the summer rolls around, I’m thankful for the break. And then between coaching baseball, attending t-ball games, and directing the Fourth of July Melodrama, I see a good number of the kids on a regular basis.
Then July sets in, and except for the few kids I might see at my house or at the park or in the pool, I am cut off from the regular interaction. It is not something that I really think about. I show up to work and take care of the few things requiring my attention. I enjoy the slow pace and the quiet time.
But by the end of the month, I begin to feel the emptiness of the school. Things are too quiet. The halls are too empty.
So when the fair rolls around, the first thing I notice is all the kids. They call out my name. They come up to me and give me hugs. They ask how my summer has gone. Mostly, though, they laugh and play and enjoy themselves. I especially enjoy watching the kids on the inflatables. Kids scampering everywhere, their energy seemingly inexhaustible, their joy uncontained. As I watch them, I realize how much I have missed them. I remember how lucky I am to work in a profession where I get to be part of so much energy and enthusiasm. I feel like I have woken from a long nap, and I begin to look to the beginning of school not as something else that needs to be done, but as something exciting and rewarding. I feel like a kid myself, waiting for Christmas to get here, impatient and eager for the sheer celebration that is the beginning of school.
This year, I was given a couple more reasons to appreciate the life these kids bring wherever they go. On Wednesday night, as I was about to gather my kids and head home, I was approached by a couple who identified themselves as having students beginning in our school next year. The man explained that he had moved away from Hill City, but that a tragedy had brought him back. His wife and children had recently been killed in a horrible accident. He had returned to Hill City to try to put his life back together. He had found a new partner and was helping her with her children. He was grateful for them, but still missed his other family. “It’s hard,” he told me. “It’s been hard, it’s still hard, and it’s always going to be hard.”
I didn’t know what to say. I told him to hang in there and that I’d keep him in my prayers. What else can you say?
The next morning, I was awoken early by a phone call with more tragic news. The fourteen-year-old nephew of a friend had been killed during the night in a house fire. We knew the boy enough that the friend had called to give us the news. As horrible as the news was for us, I can’t imagine what the boy’s surviving family must be going through. How does anyone survive the loss of a child? I can’t imagine it and hope I never have to find out.
Needless to say, I spent the day hugging my kids, thanking God for every day I get to spend with them. You never know when tragedy may strike. You never know when anyone of us may be called away. All we can do is love each other and make the most of the time we are given.
So hug your kids. Hug your parents. Hug each other. Enjoy every day. For me, I’ll especially enjoy seeing all the kids and starting
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