Taking the first step is usually the most challenging task.
For any new endeavor, we may spend a lot of time planning, preparing,
anticipating and then again planning. Yet when the moment of taking that plunge
comes, the heart skips a beat, hands go cold and feet go numb.
I had quite a similar feeling as I walked towards the school
gate holding my daughter’s hand. She is too young to fully grasp the change
that was about to come to her little world. But I, her mother, who had
organized all this, knew it too well.
We had planned well and planned long for this day. It was
nothing less than a big research project for us. It has been some time since
we, the parents, had started discussing about sending our 2 year daughter to a pre-school.
We even discussed it with other parents and gathered their experience. This was
followed by a thorough search of the neighboring schools. We compared them on all parameters – hygiene,
facilities, student strength, curriculum, activities conducted, staff presence
and behavior, space to play, fee structure, travel time, proximity to home etc
etc etc. As the next step, we met the administrative and teaching staff of the
short-listed schools, to better understand their culture and processes. And it
was after all this pre-work, that we decided on a school.
As I stood at the gate, I must admit I was nervous. Earlier,
both my husband and I had decided to accompany her. But he could not join as he
was called away for work. Thus I was entrusted once again to play the role of
both parents. Just to digress a bit, I think it’s just not possible to fill in
that gap which only a father can. I only try to expand my presence a little bit
more in a vain attempt to cover for his absence.
Coming back to the school gate, I carried my daughter in my
arms, just to provide that extra comfort. She was looking at this new place
with the curiosity of a toddler, yet clung to me, for her sense of security. Since
this was her first day, the principal suggested that I must accompany her to
the class.
My daughter was joining the place mid-session, and hence the
other kids had already been there for almost two months. They looked up from
their toys as we entered the room, with the innocent and wide gaze of a
toddler. I tried to step a little away from my daughter, but she kept clinging
to me, probably guessing that I was about to leave her there. And then exactly
as I had expected, she started crying, refusing to leave me. I, along with the
two teachers and the class assistant, were trying hard to cajole her. But our
words were falling on deaf ears.
Seeing this commotion a small boy got up from his seat. He
must have been of the same age as my daughter. He walked towards her, holding
his teddy bear in one hand. He gave me a confused look and asked, “why she
crying?” Then without waiting for my response, he turned towards her and
extended the hand in which he was holding the teddy, ”you can take my teddy.”
It is this impromptu, unplanned first step of offering help
without any expectation, which I think is the most difficult one.
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