I must have a defeated look on my face as Miss Sally pulls up next to me.
“How’s it going? You guys okay back here?” Miss Sally asks me.
“Oh, we are fine.” I say unconvincingly.
She smiles at me. “Really?
After the twenty-five minutes of chasing Ryan I am truly worn out. Not just physically, but emotionally. I don’t know how I can keep this up. It really is pointless. He gets absolutely nothing out of each class. I was going to speak with her at the end of the year, but decide I could lay it on her now.
“Mrs. Sally, this is…Ryan has such a hard time…the class is just not made for his…” I stumble trying to figure out how to tell her nicely that it isn’t worth anyone’s time him coming to this class.
“I know what you are trying to say.” She says with a sweet smile on her face. She always looks like she has a secret.
I feel the guilt rising up in my throat as I gain the courage to tell her we just aren’t going to come back next year. I have been researching special needs catechism and did not come up with much. But Dan and I decided after a long evening of me venting after class that maybe he just isn’t ready and we wait until he’s older.
“Mrs. Sally, I think it best Ryan not attend–“
“–I know what you are going to say.” She interrupts me. “But, I’m going to ask you a favor.” She stops her wheely chair and turns it to look at me so I stop. This seems serious. Ryan is walking ahead of us with the other children so I keep one eye on him.
“Be patient.” She says simply.
That’s the favor? Be patient. Does she not know that every part of my day involves more patience than I ever knew I had? My whole existence is commanded to be patient with him. Right now I feel Luke being spoken to by Yoda. “Do or not do, there is no try”… doesn’t she know the painstaking ends I go to have patience? I can only imagine the look on my face because she smiles even broader.
“I’m working on something…something really great, to fit the needs of kids like Ryan at our church. I’ve got a group who need their own class. I just need more time to get it organized.”
Oh! She doesn’t mean to be patient with him, she means with her.
“Oh, okay.” I say happily, realizing my blunder.
“I will get you some information over the summer.” She starts to turn her chair to indicate the conversation is over, and stops again. “Don’t give up on us okay?” She doesn’t wait for my answer only wheels away.