Roaring Twenties

Dear Twenties,

As we part ways, a reflection of the last decade of my life is perhaps inevitable.  I would love to say you were always good to me, but alas, I cannot make such a bold statement.  You were good at times, bad at times, and frankly, downright ugly at times.  But through it all, I did in fact survive with some spectacular lessons and experiences.

20 was the level of perfection I always wanted to attain, but slipped out of my grasp far too soon.  Naivety led me to believe it would last forever--my state of being nobody, and therefore perfect.  This innocence also led me to another fantasy ideal--that arguing with the spirit would turn out in my favor.  Alas, with the loss of that battle, mission papers were submitted, and the demise of perfection seemed inevitable, even if I did not initially see it coming.

21 approached with a level of fear and anxiety previously unknown in my state of naive perfection.  It described itself as merely "the South."  In this unknown and strange world yet another naive ideal would be shattered.  Not only was my year of perfection gone, but it would not be achieved again in this life.  Amid this disheartening realization came a glimmer of hope--a Canadian mission companion.

By 22, the disillusionment had passed, perfection no longer the goal.  I was merely content to accept the fervent chastisement of my Mission President's wife: "Perfection is a process, not a place we remain all the time."

23 arrived with all it's "Pomp and Circumstance," and the most expensive sheet of paper I own.  Joy!  Rapture!  With a sense of accomplishment and renewed freedom, I reentered the realm of public education, determined to conquer the world. Alas, this latest naive, idealist position would soon collapse, just as they all have.

24 came waltzing in, ready to prove that a college education does not in fact prepare you for everything fifth graders can dish out.  After many tears, "revisions," and constructive criticism, I finally attained reassurance of my career choice.  It came in the form of a card from two little handfulls, "Thank you . . . hopefully next year you will have a better class than we were."

Ah, 25 was grateful for that wish that came true!!  The little darlings were fabulous, complete with a one-time-only ukulele concert.  But this too would end far too soon.  A new position was calling, complete with a high-tech upgrade and the bliss of being a "veteran teacher" following the intense hand-cramp requirement called the PRAXIS.

26 was enthusiastic about this new role, and only slightly deterred with rumors of devilish darlings.  Armed with every sanctioned tool in the toolbox, I donned my helmet and went to war . . . only to lose due to heat exhaustion in a non-air conditioned building and a windowless classroom.  Fortunately, after school productivity decreased, Chicken Dancing and Wii Boxing increased, and the war was eventually won . . . against the heat AND the darlings.  I became known as the Undisputed Queen of Christmas.  Yes, it was a good year.

By 27, confidence was renewed, I gained respect from parents and received donuts as proof.  However, tragedy struck, and I was forced to say farewell to a longtime friend.  And as 27 was headed for the door, it stopped in the emergency room first . . . so my elbow could be repaired.

28 came in with a vengeance.  Or perhaps more like a wolf . . . in sheep's clothing.  While humor abounded in typical 5th grade fashion (and a-typical fashion in some cases), I learned a valuable truth.  It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye . . . or their confidence, right?  Fortunately, a new ward was created, a new calling was issued, new friends were made, and a buoy was created during the eye of the storm.

While I hoped 28 was the worst of it, the vengeance continued with 29.  Perhaps the storm raged even more intensely.  But finally, a light came, and the buoy was utilized in abundance.  A release from the calling came the day before 30, having contributed it's fair share to the buoy that was my saving grace.

As you go out like a lion, please ask Thirties to come in like a lamb.

Sincerely,
Esther