Just this past week, while CC was still in America, I realized I needed to get Sweet Cheeks after school, as her sisters were in an after-school activity and could not walk her home. I called the office and said, "Send her on home. I'll meet her." And so, my five-year-old began to walk home...down a city street, by herself. Prior to meeting up with her, as I watched her walk alone, I heard in the background the call to prayer at our local mosque. At that moment, it was as if God gave me a gentle reminder that I have it really, really good here. My daughter, at five years old, can walk home in this place safely.
And even our school is in sort of a bubble, and I like our bubble. An example of this was this past weekend. It was our "prom," which we call, "The Winter Ball." With the help of some teachers, the secondary kids plan a theme and decorate the atruim of our school (and the cafeteria becomes a little cafe) for a dance. This year's theme was "A Night At Times Square." The week before the dance, they all meet up to learn how to dance...fun, wholesome dances like swing dances and line dances. And then they all dress up fancy and look adorable and dance with each other. The high school guys dance with their literature teacher. They ask all the girls, not just the one with whom they came. If a girl seems to have been waiting a little too long to be asked, she'll grab another girl and dance with her. They do ask friends from outside our school to attend, but it is well-known what kind of prom we have. The music is fun and lively, and not trashy. CC and I popped in to see the kids and how they had it decorated, and it just struck me again how nice it is to have this wholesome environment. How nice that the biggest worry is whether the slideshow will work, not whether someone has brought drugs. At our prom, parents come and hug the necks of the kids and tell them how wonderful they look, then of course leave! But they are still welcome to come.
It seems to me it is just the way it should be.
And, since it is for 7th-12th grades, CC had a big dose of reality when Firstborn said, "Next year it will be me, Papa!" (He's thought of changing it to 9th-12th grade only at that point!)