Inside looking out

I had the interesting privelege to volunteer at Avalon (my sons school) today manning the snack table. After collecting the change box and opening up the 8 x 12 room that held the snacks, I followed the detailed instructions: position table in front of door; review and verify items to be sold, post price lists. Five quiet minutes to prepare and then BAM! A boisterous pack of piranhas disguised as boys of all ages,  most with manners, all with huge appetites and tremendous energy, swept swiftly past my little doorway. Eager eyes and hungry mouths patiently and quickly took turns exchanging quarters and dollars with me for lunch-time treasures; chips, cookies, hot-pockets, and Gatorade galore. They disappeared into the adjoining cafeteria as swifly as the thank you's they dispensed, rapidly replaced by those who had finished the contents of their bagged lunches but were hungry for more. And quicker than Santa up a chimney, the flow of boys reversed, the sound and the fury tempered with laughter and giggles as they sped outdoors to expend their energy in a fury of flying snowballs.  As I stood there peering out the doorway of my little room into the ever-quieting hallway, teachers smiled and waved as they moved to keep up with the boys. And it occured to me that the tempo of the past thirty minutes was merely an amazing snapshot of the teacher's day. I stood there and reflected on their contributions to the academic, spiritual, and personal growth of my sons and the rest of the boys at Avalon, and I thanked God for the blessings that I sometimes take for granted. I closed up shop, turned out the light, and shut the door behind me. Before I continued down the hall, I paused and listened to the quiet for one more moment, recording in my mind the amazing forty minutes I had just been privelged to enjoy, even if only from the inside of a small room looking out into an ever-changing snapshot of life. God is ever-present, if only you but open your eyes to see.