Working with the kids has been amazing so far, even more so because they don't yet know how special they are. Every one of them is filled with the innocence and happiness that comes with childhood. It's contagious.
Their parents faces tell me they're tired. I wonder what they've been through to get here and what they've left behind, but will never get the nerve to ask.
I hope that their children don't lose their happiness-- that they keep their awe and wonder of the world they're in. That they don't let life bring them down.
I think of them every day, and the days when I wake up to see them, I think of them ALL day. Their smiles and small feet. The foreign smells of another culture, their accents and names which are so hard to pronounce.
Most importantly, I think of their trust. I already love them, and know in a few more days they'll love me back. I never want to take that for granted.
They come to school sleepy, excited, not ready to leave their mothers for the day. The boys wear princess pajamas and the girls wear shirts that say things like, "Future Mr. Right!" They don't know or care about America's cultural standards yet, and it makes me happy. We should be glad to even have clothes. There are so many more important things their parents are worrying about, and my heart aches to see the lines on their faces that I know aren't from age.
I'm dying to take photos of them so that I can remember them if they don't come back to school come fall, but I'm not sure that'd be alright. Either way, they're the only reason I'd ever wake up before 7 of my own accord. <3
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