“Today’s lesson is about allowing,” Teacher says from behind the podium set front-and-center on the stage in his classroom. “I am told that some of you are a tad confused.”
He turns from us and writes on the chalkboard that has replaced the neat white board from the classes before. In yellow chalk he scratches furtively:
Allowing – 1) to make a possibility; 2) to give consideration to circumstances or contingencies
My classmates and I exchange confused glances. What’s up with this change in Teacher’s style?
“Are you writing this down?”
This anger is so unnatural. I can’t keep quiet.
“What’s wrong, Teacher?” I ask, trying hard to make sure my voice sounds worried, not accusatory.
At first, he seems about to react with fire-and-brimstone, but our eyes meet. He softens.
“You seem so off today, Teach,” Irreverent echoes my concern. “Did we do something wrong?”
Our classmates’ concern rolls around the classroom, and, like a gentle tide, it covers our Teacher with love and concern.
He replaces the chalk in its spot under the board, wiping the yellow dust on his purple dress pants. Only now do I notice that he came dressed for class like a professor from my grandfather’s days at the university. Purple suit and tie, brilliant blue dress shirt and derby hat. He’s seriously Old School today.
“Listen close, Dear Ones,” he says, leaning on the edge of his desk. “I am afraid.” He stops to glance at each of us, catching each gaze before going on. “All of this time in my class, and I do not think you understand how to truly allow.”
The room is so quiet, a cricket sitting in a bush under a shadowy section of the garden is the only sound heard after a few long moments.
I look around the room at the bowed heads of my classmates and know it’s my cue.
“Teacher,” I search for a way to cushion the blow. There’s no way. “I’m sorry, sir. We understand what it is, but we don’t know how to change the way we are.”
“So it’s true.”
“But we love you, Teacher,” Hope says, and again a chorus of voices echo her feelings.
Teacher looks up, a sly smile on his face, “As do I love you, my Dear Ones.”
He jumps down off his desk and skips down to our level.
“So, you love me, but why should you stay in my class if I haven’t been able to teach you how to allow?” He locks his gaze with Clever Clyde’s. “Well?”
“We love you because we know you will teach us. We trust you.”
Teacher turns around, not missing a single one of us. “Is that true? You trust that it will happen?”
A chorus of, “Yes, sir,” meets his question.
“Why? Because you know I love you and you trust that it will happen?”
“Yes,” we say.
“And you’re just going to let me waste your time because you know I will one day teach you the lessons you need to learn?” Unable to contain his excitement, Teacher skips up the steps to the board once more. Around the definition of Allowing, he draws a large purple heart with the chalk that is no longer yellow. “And that is because you love me this big?”
A titter of laughs jumps around the room.
“Because you know that’s how much I love you, right? You know that someone who loves you this big would never let you down?”
Suddenly, metaphorical light bulbs go off around the room as one after another of us gasps with the realization.
“So you get it now, my dear students?”
He flips his hat off his head and wipes it on his pants leg and erasing the leftover chalk. He blows the yellow off his pristine hat before turning to me, for the summary of what we learned. “So, Dear Writer, what is this lesson you have all suddenly gotten?”
I take a long, deep breath, closing my eyes to center myself before I go on.
“That God Source loves us just as much, if not more, than you do. Allowing, the way you have tried to teach us in the past, means accepting that what is right for us will happen at the right time. We haven’t understood, though. We keep wanting to rush things and doubt ourselves, and by doubting ourselves we are not allowing. We didn’t understand. Not until now.”
I cup my fingers to make the sign of a heart and I move that little heart over my chest.
“Accepting means we love and trust God like we love and trust you.”
Class dismissed, dear friends.
The Dragonfly’s Student