When School Bells Ring

Reagan wears a maroon and gray plaid uniform to school and it's just the cutest thing!  Pretty similar to the red plaid I wore in my Catholic elementary school days, except in the 21st century Catholic school uniforms have matching ponytail holders and bows and socks and backpacks and lunch boxes and even teddy bears!  Every morning I get up and get her up and dress her in her little plaid jumper and the blouse with the peter-pan collar and do her hair with a ponytail or maybe two pig tails or maybe just a sassy side-sweep with a barrette.  And off she goes to St. Mary Magdalene, her purple polka-dot book bag bouncing on her back.  But next year will be different.

This is re-enrollment time at St. Mary Magdalene.  Parents are just about done scrambling about to get in forms and fees.  At dismissal time, I hear the calls of "Is Alex coming back next year?" and "Are you going to the uniform sale to stock up for kindergarten?".  And I feel left out, not at all part of that crowd or that experience.  And I wonder if Reagan feels that way too.

It's not like Reagan is going to fall into some kind of cesspool of an educational institution.  In fact, we've applied for admission at one of the best English speaking schools in Hong Kong, Hong Kong International.  The campus photos are amazingly beautiful.  The curriculum is stellar.  The activities, plentiful.  And the entry process, a process.  Gene has met with admissions; we've mailed in our application; we're putting together round two of the requested documents from teachers and doctors; and we're crossing our fingers and waiting and waiting and hoping. And on a daily basis, we're peeking at these brochures to remind ourselves of what could be in store for our little girl -- the start of her primary learning at an international school, where she will still receive a Christian-based education, but with a literal melting-pot of children from all over the world.  It sounds kinda impressive.  But it also sounds kinda scary.

I have a sincere fondest for Catholic education; my Catholic education has served me well.  And I would be remiss to mention that it was within those brick walls of St. Stanislaus School that I first laid eyes on the most handsome young man, who is now my most handsome husband.  But when I think back to those years at St. Stan's I think first of the families.  There were those families that everyone just knew.  The moms were the lunch ladies, the dads the basketball coaches.  You saw them at pick-up and at annual roller skating parties and every weekend at church.   When we moved down here to North Carolina, I missed that.  I missed going to church and seeing familiar faces and feeling like part of a larger community, a larger family.  But then we found St. Mary Magdalene and as I became more involved in parish activities and Reagan started school, the most amazing thing happened.  Faces behind the windshields in the car pool lane smile and wave at me.  Other mothers have sought me out to help on volunteer committees.  Waiting for Reagan at dismissal, I chat with the other parents like we're old friends.  And at Sunday mass I always see familiar faces in the crowd. 

So next school year when school bells ring, I'll be waking Reagan up and dressing her in her little red polo shirt and uniform shorts and getting her on a school bus, a novelty she is looking forward to.  But you can bet, that I'll be thinking of those familiar families at St Mary Magdalene and I'll be hoping they'll be thinking of us and waiting to welcome us back in a few years when school bells ring.