The Christmas Program
Our three-year old, Levi, had his first Christmas program this morning at his pre-school. He and the six other 3-year olds stood in a small room in front of a group of parents resembling camera crews at a New York Yankees press conference to sing about three songs in about 30 seconds. (Seriously, the entire thing lasted a good minute-and-a-half) Afterward we all went to their classroom for cookies, punch, and Chex mix.
Christina will ask me from time to time if I can believe that I'm a Dad. Honestly, being a father has never felt all that strange to me...until today. It was weird telling Ellen, our church secretary, that I was leaving to watch Levi's Christmas program at school. It was strange standing against the wall holding the video camera focused on Levi chewing on his finger nails, staring blankly at the sweet lady trying desperately to get them to sing, playing with the bell around his neck, waving to his mother, and chewing on his finger nails again. It was strange being in his classroom and hearing him talk to his friends Connor and Nickolas as though he's known them forever, even though I have absolutely no idea who they are. It's strange to see him with his own friends outside of our family circle. It was strange when his teacher, Ms. Donna, gave him his stocking filled with candy and a small book (I asked Levi what he got and he held up his stocking and said, "Daddy, Ms. Donna gave me a sock!!!").
All of this was strange because I have become used to being a Dad for babies and small children, but not big kids. I know he's only 3, but having Christmas programs and getting presents from your teacher are things that older kids do, kids who are very close to moving out of the house and going to college, then getting married and having a family of their own. Those are the kids who have Christmas programs, not ours.
I treasure these moments because it is in the hearts of my children where I so often see myself. And when I see myself in them, I understand a little better my heavenly Father's love for me.
Christina will ask me from time to time if I can believe that I'm a Dad. Honestly, being a father has never felt all that strange to me...until today. It was weird telling Ellen, our church secretary, that I was leaving to watch Levi's Christmas program at school. It was strange standing against the wall holding the video camera focused on Levi chewing on his finger nails, staring blankly at the sweet lady trying desperately to get them to sing, playing with the bell around his neck, waving to his mother, and chewing on his finger nails again. It was strange being in his classroom and hearing him talk to his friends Connor and Nickolas as though he's known them forever, even though I have absolutely no idea who they are. It's strange to see him with his own friends outside of our family circle. It was strange when his teacher, Ms. Donna, gave him his stocking filled with candy and a small book (I asked Levi what he got and he held up his stocking and said, "Daddy, Ms. Donna gave me a sock!!!").
All of this was strange because I have become used to being a Dad for babies and small children, but not big kids. I know he's only 3, but having Christmas programs and getting presents from your teacher are things that older kids do, kids who are very close to moving out of the house and going to college, then getting married and having a family of their own. Those are the kids who have Christmas programs, not ours.
I treasure these moments because it is in the hearts of my children where I so often see myself. And when I see myself in them, I understand a little better my heavenly Father's love for me.
posted by CoryJones at 2:18 PM
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