Friday, December 24, 2021

You Want Me to Touch What?

I can't think of a single moment in my life, when I've been okay with spiders. Adding a single "pinch" of spiders to my imagination--whether via a news story or someone's spider tale--and the between the shoulder blades shivers start. Yet, over the years of working in a classroom, when a teacher requested, I would take a big breath, dutifully scoop up that spider and (usually) transport it back outside. 

Way, way, back, when I first started with the wee folk in Roseburg, The second teacher, I worked with, brought in a mouse for the class. I cannot remember if it was the classroom pet or if the mouse was for some type of classroom project, because I have a vague recollection of problem solving a maze of blocks in a box with the students. That mouse, was another critter (after the rabbit), I was asked to tend to the feeding and care of, along with fellow IA, Shirley. {shiver}

Imagine, I could've gone my entire life, staying at arm's length from the spiders, mice, rabbits, walking sticks, but once I was asked, I was able to gird my loins (eventually, I assume there was considerable whining to friends) and tend to the task. Maybe that's how we all get over ourselves? Someone asking, needing, wanting, and we're at their elbow, wanting to help, but ... it's something new or something long creeped out by. Yet, there we are, making a teeny tiny step towards getting over ourselves. It's a daily battle. 

Love, K

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