Suffer The Little Children

Am I the only one who receives answers to prayers in the funkiest of ways?  It must be me, I know it.  I asked for expanded faith, increased trust in Providence, patience and all of those lofty and idealistic nice things that one should ask for and in comes "Abby." The names have been changed to protect the innocent and not so innocent in this case. For those of you who know me personally I try to create my own reality by renaming the details and descriptions of particular life experiences.  My closest of friends are quite comfortable when I refer to my job as my daily field trip.  Lately my field trip has also been quite a Sunday school lesson as well.  Desiring something new or at least a little different from any environment that I'd worked in before I decided upon a Montessori school working with three year olds.  I thought that this course of action would be a delightful romp.  I could work with children and make money and also learn about a teaching philosophy that I was curious about.  I had heard of the Montessori philosophy but had zero experience with. When I came aboard as a Teaching Assistant at a day school in the artsy museum district I was extremely optimistic about the adventure ahead of me. See...I am a very positive person! Well, I was in for the lesson of a lifetime.  The words in the Bible where Jesus proclaims "suffer the little children to come unto me" echoed in my brain like a taunting mockery that was now before me.  I met a group of adorable, interesting and curious little three year olds.  These lightbearers who have obviously been here before captured my heart with their loving and lively personalities.  My days begin with the likes of  Lillian, Finn, Dudley, Angelina, Abby, Tatum, Edgar, Alessandra, and all of the other little wise beyond their years wonders.  When I enter the campus I am greeted with hugs and a host of "hello Miss Terrea." Gosh, that does wonders for a person's countenance to be greeted so warmly and with such sincerity each morning. This makes my heart full but there is always a but.  Most days are a dizzying pace of confusion, chaos and coaxing.  Enter Abby, my pint sized nemesis.  Abby has had a distinct way of vexing me beyond belief. As with many of her classmates Abby has a defiant, spoiled, unhindered way about her that has made my days brutal.  The Montessori day school where I spend my days entertaining and being tutored by Abby and her compatriats is a haven for the pint sized privileged.  Abby and her friends' are boho chic, the offspring of the well to do hippie progressive set.  Abby has not yet discovered boundaries.  Her freedom of expression is exercised quite often.  This little girl has turned into the bane of my existence.  My smile drops when I notice that Abby has graced us all with her presence today.  Oh the joy in realizing that Abby has returned for another day! Yes she is a vision to behold!! I have yet to ever see Abby, sweet, sweet Abby without some green or yellow mucus flowing or possibly dried up on her nose.  She is a one girl version of toddler tyranny.  Most of the days with Abby are spent constantly redirecting her behavior in some form or another. Although I am a novice at the Montessori philosophy and verbage, using it with and on Abby has been a constant source of frustration.  Anyone familiar with Montessori understands that it is an educational philosophy centered on allowing children's innate capacity to absorb knowledge.  Montessori environments are designed to encourage optimal learning where children are free to work and play in a carefully prepared, nurturing environment. The key words are freedom and nurturing.  All day long I am a facilitator of that freedom while nurturing and soothing.  This ideal sounds wonderful doesn't it? The challenge comes in when ushering this freedom to the likes of little people who again aren't acquainted at all with boundaries.  So in my best and most sing-song voice I provide choices to Abby as she defies any and everything while doing so walking around oozing infection.  Picture my frustration using the Montessori verbage that I've absorbed and mimicked from the other teachers.  "Abby feet on the ground please", "oh my friend Abby please be safe with your body", "Abby wood chips belong on the ground, not in your mouth" "Abby its time to rest now, would you like help for me to help your body lay down or can you do it yourself?"  "Abby please be gentle with your friends' body"  These directives in and of themselves aren't a problem at all.  However, they become a major sore spot when repeated over and over and over again within an hour to the same sweet, sweet, sweet little Abby.  Her ickiness has reached an all time high.  You see in addition to her defiance and yellow and green constant drainage Abby also has a fascination, a disturbed fascination with casting aside the need for undergarments at a moment's notice.  She will fling a pair a little girl princess panties to the wind in a minute and parade about.  Nothing new I am sure to the progressive set.  The progressive parents and teachers want to instill a relaxed sense of comfort with one's body.  I just have never experienced the sight of a two and a half year old pausing to pleasure herself in the middle of a classroom.  This behavior has puzzled me so.  Much of the behavior, tantrums and temperaments of these toddlers have perplexed me.  On one hand I feel I am surrounded by mere geniuses who have absorbed an enormous amount of information from the world around them.  They are extremely articulate, some with outstanding verbal skills and reasoning ability. These kids could engage any adult in a lively and entertaining dialogue. I'm sure of it.  On one hand I witness highly evolved little lovable beings, well maybe except Abby and on the other hand I see in some of them future residents of a drug rehab facility. I understand that meltdowns are normal for toddlers who may not get their way from time to time but wow. Little Angelina's meltdowns look more like a scene from a bad movie as she flings puzzles from the nearest shelf she can reach.  When restricted from doing so or asked to pick them up in my most loving Montessori tone she spots the nearest movable object and continues throwing things. Now I consider myself pretty progressive but there is a line between being progressive and allowing for behaviors that will someday backfire on you.  I think that children who fail to learn appropriate limitations at an early age are started on a difficult path ahead.  I sit and ponder that the behaviors I witness cannot be due to the Montessori philosophy at all but could it be that its partially due to being reared in over-indulged households.  Over and beyond that I still stop and ask, God what are You trying to teach me in all of this?  I believe that absolutely nothing happens for no reason at all.  There is a reason, even some minute reason for allowing me to cross Abby and her friends' path. There is a lesson in all of this.  There must be a lesson.  These must be a reason for allowing my days to end in such utter frustration.  There must be a reason for migraine headaches before ten o'clock in the morning.  There must be some meaningful lesson for me in all of this. I looked beyond little Stanley asking to see my nipples but again, there must something I should retain from this experience.  Sidenote, the following day after Stanley's nipple inquiry I suppose I wore a dress that proved to be too much for him.  Stanley simply hauled off and groped my girls. Being sexually harassed by a two and a half year old has to have some greater meaning, some inner lesson. I have yet to discover any of them.  Yes we want to instill in these little ones a healthy respect for their bodies but my body must also be respected Stanley. 

While driving home one afternoon and foregoing happy hour I pondered what this all means. "Suffer the little children to come to me" came to me. Those were the words that Jesus spoke so long ago when His disciples were trying to keep them at bay.  Suffer in that sense meant "to permit" or "to allow."  Okay, yet again this spiritual perspective always has a way of making me feel pretty bad.  So Jesus was saying "its okay let the kids come, cause I love the kids" and here I am pleading with God to get me away from these kids.  One of history's most influential and greatest spiritual teachers welcomed and embraced the icky kids and here I am trying to run from them.  Well, it appears that there is indeed a lesson to be learned here.  I won't suffer because of the children but will suffer the children. They are my appointed tutors at this time sent to instruct me.  Breathe and receive the lesson here. Its taking me some time to discover it but once I find what is it I am to learn from I will receive it and try my best to apply it. I hope. But God please, please don't let Abby get her ickiness on my clothes, please.