We were sitting at the dinner table when my husband asked me, “You read to Anna’s class today, right?”
I almost choked on my meatball. I had completely forgotten to show up and read to the second graders. And I had let Anna down.
Anna hadn’t mentioned it when I got home from work. She hadn’t even acted like anything was bothering her. She just looked up from her pasta and replied, “Well, my teacher wondered if you were coming. I told her I didn’t know.”
Frankly, I didn’t have a good excuse. I wasn’t out of town. I didn’t have a client emergency. It was even on my calendar. Worse yet, Doug had reminded me about it the day before. I can still hear him, “Don’t forget to show up Suz!”
I had simply forgot.
Before I could apologize, my 10-year-old, Nick, interrupted. “Mom, not to be critical, but you never volunteer in my class anymore. It seems like you’re always going to Anna’s class.”
“Nick, remember, I didn’t even show up to Anna’s class today! Look guys, I’m doing my best. You know how busy I am, and I’m really sorry.”
Anna didn’t yell at me. She didn’t whine or complain. She simply finished her dinner and said, “It’s ok Mom.”
Later that night, I was putting Anna to bed, waiting for her to finish her usual prayers for world poverty, injustice, and the forgiveness of sins for all people. Right after she prayed for Haiti and Japan, she slipped in a new line that caught me off guard.
“And dear God, please help my teacher to give Mom a second chance.”
I couldn’t say “Amen” fast enough.