I Swear I Was There: See You At The Pole

Not my finest moment as a Christian woman. Pulled into the school parking lot, my mind packed with the zillions of things I needed to accomplish before my 4th graders walked into my classroom door when I spotted a small contingency of people standing in the circular grass meridian of the bus loop. "D#mmit," I muttered. It was See You At The Pole. Okay...I know how this makes me look but, c'mon, I had to put my leftover Shepherd's Pie in the refrigerator, log onto my computer, consider buying a Snickers bar, and count out enough green foam place value unit cubes so that nine students could have twenty-four each. That was a lot of math to have to face before 8 am.

I sat in my van and considered my options. Sure, I could skulk my way across the parking lot, dodging between vehicles "Pink Panther-style." I could walk swiftly toward the building, seemingly so lost in my important educator thoughts that I simply didn't notice the gathering of prayerful people. I heaved a sigh. I pray every morning on my drive to school, my thoughts on the safe travel of my family members, my students, naming off my infinite blessings...but I realized that, as an adult, my role in this particular bible-based drama is just that: a role model...a visual representation of my faith. Man...I stomped over and joined the circle in full swing.

Once I was resigned to the idea that a Snickers bar was not going to be a part of my immediate future, I lost myself in the soft serenity of the moment. The bright blue September morning, geese honking overhead, a colorful pile of student backpacks nesting at the base of the flagpole. Our speaker sprinkled his message with mini-quizzes (I was nervous that, after asking for the definition of "righteousness," that he would request the correct spelling of the term) so I sank into private prayer, concentrating on God's Will regarding the injured front left paw of my little dachshund.

The buses began lining up, surrounding us like circus elephants. I shifted my prayer topic, asking for a hedge of protection; actually more of a non-permeable bubble barrier, against the diesel fumes. We grasped hands and prayed together before heading into the school. For the remainder of the day, I was shamed for my initial response to the See You At The Pole event and rewarded for my participation as curious kids asked me, again and again, "Mrs. Mosiman, what were you doing this morning?"  I explained in a quick and casual manner but as I left each inquiry, I would add in my head, "I was praying for you."