The Moral of the Story
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Cindy Trane Christeson
“There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved.
It is God’s finger on man’s shoulder.”
-- Charles Morgan
This past week I watched the back-to-school scene played out as I
passed different schools. But this year I am playing a very different
role in the beginning of the school year. This is the weekend that my
husband, Jon, and I leave our youngest daughter Amy at college.
My morning jog often takes me past the preschool in Corona del Mar
that both my daughters, Kelly and Amy, attended. I remember the first day
of school, each of them quietly reached up and grabbed my hand as we
walked in. I always took their pictures as they stood next to their
teachers. Then they hugged and kissed me and held my hand as they walked
me to the door. Then I let go and walked out. I tried not to look back.
My morning jog also often takes me past their elementary school. Every
year on the first day of school, we usually walked inside hand in hand.
There were years, though, when we didn’t actually do so physically, but I
still felt very connected emotionally.
For the nine years each of the girls were there, I also took their
pictures in front of the big school mailbox. It was a tradition they
allowed me to keep.
Some days I jog past their high school. Yes, I did take their pictures
the first day, but I did so in front of our house. Yes, I did drive them,
but I didn’t walk them in. They would squeeze my hand, slip out of the
car and into a sea of teenagers.
I prayed every day for God to give them the guidance and strength when
they needed to swim against the current. I guess I could have taken
pictures in front of the flagpole, as a symbol of standing firm and
upright in the world.
The first time Kelly and Amy drove themselves to school, I took a
picture of them in our big, old Suburban in front of our house. Then Jon
and I stood on the corner and watched until they were out of sight. We
were quite the picture.
When we first took Kelly to college, I took plenty of pictures. When
it was time to leave, Kelly let go of my hand, and gave me a kiss and a
hug.
Then as she turned to go her way, and I to go mine, she said, “Don’t
look back mom, and I won’t either.”
Last Sunday I sat next to Amy in church. She must have sensed my
emotions because she reached over and held my hand the rest of the
service.
This weekend I will take plenty of pictures. Maybe I’ll take one of
Amy in front of a globe, as a symbol that a whole big world awaits her.
Then it will be time for her to go her way, and me to go mine. I will try
hard not to look back.
Kelly and Amy will be out of my sight for awhile, but they’ll be near
to me in my heart. I will continue to pray for both girls every day. I’ll
also be asking God to hold my hand as I slowly let go of theirs.
And you can quote me on that.
* CINDY TRANE CHRISTESON is a Newport Beach resident who speaks
frequently to parenting groups. She can be reached via e-mail at
[email protected] or through the mail at P.O. Box 6140-#505, Newport
Beach 92658.
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