By The Flagpole, I’ll Be

In a sea of angel faces, I look for mine. Hundreds of little ones, scurrying out the doors and my eyes are only searching for theirs.

And theirs for mine.

Smudged mouths, pink cheeks, feathery tendrils escaped from ponytails tied with bows, and princess crowns, and flowered hippie bands. Dragging jackets. And backpacks. Papers and treats.

I watch them all. And I look at them, never failing to see the searching eyes, silently panicked for just a few beats, until they find the ones they own. Their mama’s or daddy’s or their person, who scoops them up to take them home.

Hand in hand.

By the flagpole, I’ll be. Waiting. The bell. The rush of faces and chatter of darlings. The breathless search. The fleeting fright. They all look alike at the end of the day. And there they are. Searching too. Amidst them all, a line is drawn from me to them.

Eyes find eyes. Their face lights up. And so does mine.

It’s my favorite time. The searching, that is. The joy of feeling the connect. And watching their silent hunt turn into relief, “ah, there you are.”

Eyes to eyes. Soul to soul. Smile to smile.

Babes, in an evolving world, I’ve watched them grow. And change. And age. But what remains the same throughout all time… are those eyes. Those beautiful, happy eyes. The searching. The quiet relief. The smile.

Knowing I’m there for them.

Always.

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