After I first went to Romania I truly grieved from my children. I grieved for a lot of things they didn't have. I still grieve for the deep, soul crushing things they have suffered and the love they have missed out on. But sometimes I grieve for random things.
Yesterday, I grieved over book fairs.
Yep, book fairs.
I grieved because, in my heart of hearts, I want my kids to experience the thrill of a book fair.
The sudden realization of this loss lead to other realizations about my children's education. They will never ride the school bus to school.
They will never pack their bookbags in expectation of a new school day. I will never check "Friday Folders" or fill out field trip slips. They will never experience the school cafeteria or recess.
They won't get to try out for a school sports team. They won't go to prom or homecoming. There will be no parent/teacher conferences. No standardized testing. No graduation ceremony with caps and gowns.
Yes, my kids have had some good educational experiences thanks to some wonderful people who pour into their lives daily. But that doesn't change the fact that they will never have the "normal" experiences I want them to. I know that my idea for the "perfect" childhood experience isn't necessarily what's best for my kids. I know that they don't know what they are missing out on. And that, even if they did know, they might not want that experience. I get that.
But when you are a missionary mama sometimes you just want to give your kids a book fair.
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