There is so much to say, I cannot really say anything. I stare at my plastic-stacked-drawers of trinkets, stickers, pencils and markers, units marked “Unity” “Oneness” ” Love” “Service” — from doing children’s classes this summer, and it seems like a lifetime ago.
My office room now contains a laptop from my new school. There are criminology books strewn around the room, a full notebook of materials from every class. Still wondering how I will ever catch up before the semester ends. Finals Week exactly 4 weeks away, and a holiday in between now and then.
I think about each student and now know them all by name. I have learned them all. I still do not know a thing about what some of them really think. What do they think about? What are their worries? What do they spend their time on away from class? Do they look forward to being at home for Thanksgiving? Do they have a goal? What do they expect in their future?
They are all beginning to worry about their grades and want to keep them as high as possible. But will they study? Will they take that book out of reserve at the library and look through the chapters? It’s anyone’s guess.
My ever present hope is that each one of them will attempt their best. Time to run that sprint to the finish line — all the way in! How much steam do you have left in reserve?
And then a blessed month off.
Doctor Grandma 
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