This time every year, Miss Rhonda’s Primary graduates walk through the courtyard at school, file into chairs and prepare to receive a Montessori diploma. I’ve seen my youngest go through this procession and thought the whole thing too much at only six years of age. Graduation is supposed to be for high school and college. Anything else is for the birds. Oh how wonderful it is to be wrong!
The ceremony always explains graduation by recounting the stages of a caterpillar’s life. By the time the children get done singing a song about taking flight, the adults (including the doubting yours-truly) are tearing up unreservedly. Fast forward three years to now when my youngest is leaving third year and ready to enter Upper El where the “big kids” reside. There won’t be an official ceremony, but the occasion is marked nonetheless by a family of mockingbirds outside of our school window.
I watched the day the eggs were laid. I watched as the hatchlings started to reach up for food. I listened as they turned noisy, chirping for more. And then I obsessively checked on them when they took their turns on the branch for their fledgling flight. My daughter watched with me and I have to admit that I was grateful she was still small enough to not see the nest without me picking her up. It was the classic graduation story again. Our children grow up and take flight. What a beauty. What a time for gratitude. And what a thing to break my heart.
-Jen
























