I didn’t cry on the first day of school. Not really my style, I guess. My children were ready and so was I. But the last? There were tears. A lot of tears. And that is largely thanks to their teachers.

To be fair, we are at the beginning of our educational journey, but the experiences we’ve had this year with Frisco’s finest—also known as the teachers—have set the bar incredibly high.

Because here’s the deal: ABCs and 123s are secondary to me. What I’m looking for—what I hope my children are the recipients of—is kindness. That’s it. Every day as I send them off into this beautiful, but often brutal world, I pray they are the getters and givers of kindness. And so far, Frisco teachers have facilitated that tenfold.

So, as our beloved leaders leave us for the summer—as we give them gift cards, and words of appreciation and a must deserved rest—I want to take a minute to document the cape-less heroes we’ve had the pleasure of getting to know.

Let’s start with my daughter.

On the first day of pre-K, she ran in enthusiastically. It’s all fresh and new and fun until the exhaustion sets in. By day three, she was in shambles, and I had to carry her in kicking and screaming.

I arrived at the classroom out of breath and minutes away from a breakdown myself, and that’s when her teacher dismissed the other students, got on the floor, and hugged my child into her chest.

She looked me in the eye and said, “Go,” and so I did. Because in that moment, I saw my daughter’s body release into the safety of someone who cared for her. A bridge of trust had been built, and since then, neither of us has looked back. But the tears returned this week as we bid farewell because . . . 

I’m not sure how you say goodbye to a superhero.

Someone who has taken the time to love your child—to paste and paint self-worth into their tiny souls. Next year we make the leap into kindergarten, which brings anxieties of its own.

Preschool was a safe bubble for myself and my child, who has differing needs. She’s four and reads on a fourth-grade level, but she’s never had a friend. There’s a large gap between her academic giftedness and her social skills, and my fear that she’ll be left to the “big school” bullies often consumes me.

So a few weeks ago, I decided to meet with my daughter’s future principal. I wanted to explain all about this little, sensitive, oh-so-smart human I’m raising. I was nervous to do this, to preemptively give her information that could lead to judgment, but to no surprise my child was embraced from the minute I opened my mouth.

I sat in awe listening to the principal explain the plans that Frisco schools have in place to increase the social/emotional learning for every student. My jaw dropped when she mentioned extra recess, and brain breaks, and quiet corners in the classroom where children can remove themselves if they’re overstimulated or stressed.

I came with concerns, but I left with comfort.

Because inside the four walls of that school were people who cared. I could feel it. These children were names to them, not numbers. The sigh of relief they gave me will carry me through these summer months as I prepare to let my daughter go.

And then there’s my son, also with special needs. His teacher recently friended me on social media and naturally, I took a skim/stalk through her page. I came upon a picture of her holding a chalkboard sign that read, “I said YES!” She’s already married, so it struck me as odd until I read the caption.

This post, by this one particular hero, was about saying yes to becoming a teacher in an autism-specific classroom. She went on to describe this job offer as her “dream” and “an answer to prayer”. I couldn’t stop crying, then and now, because it was at that moment I realized how lucky we are to have found the right place and people for my son.

I didn’t choose to have special needs children, but these teachers did.

Every day they willingly walk into a job that requires more work than we can possibly imagine.

And they’re doing it happily. Faithfully! Honorably! They wanted this. They wanted my child. In a world that often says “change who you are” they’re saying, “Come to me as is.” So I’ve given them my son and in return, they’ve given my family hope.

I don’t know many people selfless enough to love a child who isn’t their own. To seek their best interest above the easier way. But I know a handful of them now, and I bow down. I can barely handle two children, but a class of 20? All the praise.

The truth is, the only reason I can breathe and begin again as a woman is because for a few hours a day, these teachers relieve me as a mother.

They say “it takes a village” and educators are among that village. They’re doing the hard, often thankless work of molding children, and they’re doing it every day without complaint.

So to all the teachers out there who graciously give so others can grow. Who see the whole child—not just the missing piece:

Thank you for saying YES. You are doing the work of the mighty.

Now go enjoy your break. We’re counting down the days until August.

This article originally appeared on LifeStyleFrisco.com

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Stephanie Hanrahan

Stephanie Hanrahan is wife to a sick husband, mother to special needs kiddos, and a woman who often unravels then finds her footing again. Learn how she traded her pretending for a panty liner on Instagram, Facebook, and her blog Tinkles Her Pants, where she leaks nothing but the truth.

Our Kids Need Us as Much as We Need Them

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little boy sitting on bench with dog nearby, color photo

During a moment of sadness last week, my lively and joyful toddler voluntarily sat with me on the couch, holding hands and snuggling for a good hour. This brought comfort and happiness to the situation. At that moment, I realized sometimes our kids need us, sometimes we need them, and sometimes we need each other at the same time. Kids need us. From the moment they enter the world, infants express their needs through tiny (or loud) cries. Toddlers need lots of cuddling as their brains try to comprehend black, white, and all the colors of the expanding world around...

Keep Reading

Your Kids Don’t Need More Things, They Need More You

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Mother and young girl smiling together at home

He reached for my hand and then looked up. His sweet smile and lingering gaze flooded my weary heart with much-needed peace. “Thank you for taking me to the library, Mommy! It’s like we’re on a date! I like it when it’s just the two of us.” We entered the library, hand in hand, and headed toward the LEGO table. As I began gathering books nearby, I was surprised to feel my son’s arms around me. He gave me a quick squeeze and a kiss with an “I love you, Mommy” before returning to his LEGO—three separate times. My typically...

Keep Reading

This Time In the Passenger Seat is Precious

In: Kids, Motherhood, Teen
Teen driver with parent in passenger seat

When you’re parenting preteens and teens, it sometimes feels like you are an unpaid Uber driver. It can be a thankless job. During busy seasons, I spend 80 percent of my evenings driving, parking, dropping off, picking up, sitting in traffic, running errands, waiting in drive-thru lines. I say things like buckle your seat belt, turn that music down a little bit, take your trash inside, stop yelling—we are in the car, keep your hands to yourself, don’t make me turn this car around, get your feet off the back of the seat, this car is not a trash can,...

Keep Reading

So God Made My Daughter a Wrestler

In: Kids, Motherhood
Young female wrestler wearing mouth guard and wrestling singlet

God made my girl a wrestler. Gosh, those are words I would never have thought I would say or be so insanely proud to share with you. But I am. I know with 100 percent certainty and overwhelming pride that God made my girl a wrestler. But it’s been a journey. Probably one that started in the spring of 2010 when I was pregnant with my first baby and having the 20-week anatomy ultrasound. I remember hearing the word “girl” and squealing. I was over the moon excited—all I could think about were hair bows and cute outfits. And so...

Keep Reading

A Big Family Can Mean Big Feelings

In: Faith, Kids, Motherhood
Family with many kids holding hands on beach

I’m a mother of six. Some are biological, and some are adopted. I homeschool most of them. I’m a “trauma momma” with my own mental health struggles. My husband and I together are raising children who have their own mental illnesses and special needs. Not all of them, but many of them. I battle thoughts of anxiety and OCD daily. I exercise, eat decently, take meds and supplements, yet I still have to go to battle. The new year has started slow and steady. Our younger kids who are going to public school are doing great in their classes and...

Keep Reading

You May Be a Big Brother, but You’ll Always Be My Baby

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother with young son, color photo

It seems like yesterday we were bringing you home from the hospital. Back then, we were new parents, clueless but full of love—a love that words can hardly explain. I can vividly recall holding you in my arms, rocking you in the cutest nursery, and singing sweet lullabies, just like yesterday. I can picture those times when you were teeny-tiny, doing tummy time, and how proud I was of you for lifting your head. And oh, the happiness on your face when “Baby Shark” played over and over—that song always made you smile! We made sure to capture your growth...

Keep Reading

“It Looks and Tastes Like Candy.” Mom Shares Warning about THC Gummies All Parents Need to Hear

In: Kids, Living, Teen
Hand holding bottle of THC gummies

What Aimee Larsen first thought was a stomach bug turned out to be something much more terrifying for her young son. Her 9-year-old woke up one day last week seeming “lethargic, barely able to stand or speak,” his mom shared in a Facebook post. At first, she assumed he had a virus, but something about his behavior just didn’t seem right. She called an ambulance and asked her older sons if their brother might have gotten into something, like cough syrup or another over-the-counter medicine. Their answer? “Yeah, THC gummies.” THC gummies are an edible form of cannabis that contain...

Keep Reading

My Child with Special Needs Made His Own Way in His Own Time

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother holding child's hand walking across street

I want to tell you the story of a little boy who came to live with me when he was three years old. Some of you may find this story familiar in your own life. Your little boy or girl may have grown inside you and shares your DNA or maybe they came into your life much older than three. This little boy, this special child, my precious gift has special needs. Just five short years ago, he was a bit mean and angry, he said few understandable words, and there was a lot about this world he didn’t understand. Unless...

Keep Reading

Dear Daughter as You Grow into Yourself

In: Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Girl in hat and dress-up clothes, color photo

My daughter, I watched you stand in front of the mirror, turning your body left and right. Your skirt was too big and your top on backward. Your bright blue eyeshadow reached your eyebrows and bold red blush went up to your ears. You didn’t care. I watched you marvel at your body, feeling completely at ease in your skin. You turned and admired yourself with pride. You don’t see imperfections. You don’t see things you are lacking. You see goodness. You see strength. RELATED: Daughter, When You Look in the Mirror, This is What I Hope You See I’m...

Keep Reading

Organized Sports Aren’t Everything

In: Kids, Motherhood
Young girl with Alpaca, color photo

Today I watched my little girl walk an alpaca. His name is Captain. Captain is her favorite. He’s my favorite too. I met his owner on Instagram of all places. She thought I was in college; I thought she was a middle-aged woman. Turns out, she is in high school, and I am a middle-aged woman. This random meeting led to a blessing. We call it “llama lessons.” We take llama lessons every other week. It’s an hour away on the cutest hobby farm. Our “teacher” is Flora, who boards her llamas at the alpaca farm. She wants to teach...

Keep Reading