He stood in my living room gazing about him with awe. Finally the little first grader spoke up, “Teacher, can I come live with you?” he implored. Suddenly I tried to see my humble home through his eyes instead of mine that saw all the flaws and imperfections.
We often laughed about the crack in the bathroom between the wall and the bathtub that let in cold as well as occasional flakes of snow. I often complained of the mice that tormented me and shuddered at the rat that had chewed through the drywall ceiling to drop into our kitchen until we caught him.
Yet this child made me begin to see the place through his eyes. Joey* lived under very different circumstances than mine. His house had a dirt floor, mine had a rug. His house was cold and drafty, mine though not air tight was warm with a gas furnace. He lived with a stepfather who had taken a gun and shot his mother wounding her. I lived with my husband and infant son in a loving and peaceful environment.
Joey was a handful in my first grade classroom. He would often in a fit of anger stab at one of the other children with whatever he happened to have in his hand…a pencil, a scissors, or in the lunchroom, a fork. I had finally had to have him sit with me at lunch in the cafeteria to prevent any incidents there during the meal. To say it was a stressful first year of teaching would be an understatement!
This was the final day of school. I had promised the class of 30 plus children that we would walk to my house and have cookies and drink on this last day. When we arrived at the house, most of the children walked around to the backyard to wait for me to bring out the snacks. But somehow Joey and a few others had followed me into the house. He had gotten just inside the door when he stopped abruptly and began looking around him. Our next brief exchange would change the way I saw my life forever!
We often think culture shock happens when one travels from a poverty stricken country like Haiti back to our homes in the States. Yet I think for me the disparity between Joey’s home and situation and mine was as great a shock to me as when years later I traveled between many developing countries of the world and my home. Through the years, for the most part I can say with the Apostle Paul, “…I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances…” Phil. 4:11 And if I have a fleeting thought of discontent, all I have to do is remember Joey and try to see my circumstances through his eyes once again.
*Not his real name to protect his identity.