I didn't realize . . .

Last week was such a difficult week at work. I began to doubt my ability to maintain the stamina required to meet the needs of the students in my care. Beginning with neglect and hostility and then on to physical, emotional, and sexual abuse at the hands of the very people whose job it is to care for and nurture these children.

I listen. I comfort. I answer their questions the best I can. I point them to hope and a better life ahead. I call the abuse hot line.

One girl came back to me the next morning asking, "why didn't DHS come to my house? They said they would come. I'm afraid to go home. Time to call a supervisor.

This week has been so different. Girls fighting with their friends, competing over the same guy. Boys being bullied or bullying others. Families dealing with divorce. Boys and girls dealing with the normal adjustments of middle school. While each problem was disturbing to the individual, I felt better able to offer what they needed. I felt more sure of my decisions and responses.

Frankly, both kinds of weeks are difficult in their own way, but last week required me to draw from resources deeper within.

Then a teacher stopped me in the hall. She said, "Vicky, you are what I have always pictured a counselor to be. You do such a good job with our children."

Then I remembered last week when I shared my feelings of discouragement with another teacher friend. Her immediate response was, "but Vicky, you can't quit, you are so good with these kids. They need you".

I didn't realize . . .until I was reminded. I am making a difference even when I can't recognize it myself.

Thank you my teacher friends. You really encouraged me and you may never know how much.