Wednesdays

Every Wednesday morning at 9:00 am I meet with a group of young moms and teach a parenting class.  The irony of this (ME teaching a parenting class) is almost more than I can handle but it's turned out to be one of the highlights of each week.  What started as a "how to" class has evolved into a conversation of sorts, in which we talk about where they have come from and how their culture, family, and history has shaped them to be the women they are.  And what began as me doing a lot of talking has transitioned to me asking a lot of questions.  In doing so, I have the privilege of hearing their dreams and fears and questions that have sometimes never been spoken. 

Their courage and strength is beautiful, and I often wonder if I would have the same amount of courage to leave everything familiar- my family, my language, my HOME-- in pursuit of a better life for my children.  These women, more than anyone, have given me the clearest picture of a parent's sacrificial love.  I always tell them that even though I am the teacher, I learn much more from them than they could ever learn from me.        

I love these women.  And it's our times together that get my wheels churning and my heart dreaming for the future.  Funny how something like a parenting class (that I never wanted to teach in the first place) has been a vehicle for growth and a tool in helping me realize my own strengths and passions.  So although I cannot {and should not} be an authoritative voice on discipline or potty-training, I can give them a voice to share their stories, in a way that {hopefully} empowers them to be the women and mothers they dream of.