We Lost Matthew

A new semester has begun, and I am thrilled to be in the home stretch of our upcoming wedding (yes, 140 days is the home stretch when we began with 335 days on the countdown clock).

(But this blog isn't about my upcoming wedding, so check back soon for details on our wedding planning).

But a new semester has begun, and as always, I have new kids on my roster. Our scheduler tries really hard to keep us with our same kids all year, but due to sports, music, theatre, work, and other factors, sometimes a student's schedule will change and he/she will not be able to stay with their same English teacher.

On the first day of the new semester last week, I looked around my "new" 7th hour class to see who had changed classes. My "old" 7th hour class from last semester was the best class I have ever taught. It only had 22 students (which is a miracle and a gift from God), and they were perfect. I adored that class. They thought I was funny, they laughed at my jokes, we all got along, they participated, I brought them treats, etc. It was a fantastic group, and I was so, so sad to see the semester end because I knew changes would come this new semester.

And sure enough they did. I looked around at my "new" 7th hour class and there were 30 faces staring at me (that's a huge class). Two naughty kids from 6th hour had moved to 7th hour, and I was missing some familiar faces, too.

I glanced around the room to see who had moved classes. I noticed Matthew was gone and I said to my new 7th hour class, "Oh, how sad. We lost Matthew."

A student from my "old" class gasped and exclaimed, "That's horrible. When? How did he die?!?!?"

Oh. My. Goodness. Totally not what I meant. "No, no, no. He didn't die. I just meant he changed classes."