Ms. Rumphius

Summer is here.

I taught my last day of the school year today. I read my kids one of my faves, Miss Rumphius, and kind of teared up (as I always do) at the end. The young character sets out into the great big world with three tasks: to visit far away lands, to return to her home by the sea, and to make the world a more beautiful place. She accomplishes all three tasks, and at the end, as her long white hair waves behind her, she notes that the last was certainly the most difficult.

I closed the book and looked out at my sea of faces - full of missing teeth and scratches. Their cheeks, some still round like babies, and some more angular like older kids, were all puffy from smiles and excitement with the thought of summer. Their dark hair melding together as they sat closely at my feet, forming what looked like black shiny waves in the ocean when you walk the beach at night.

I told them that I read the book because I,too, have three requests of them. They understood two of the requests immediately. They know I want them to travel; I tell them that everyday. I want them to ride on camels and shop in village markets. I want them to skitter barefoot through Buddhist temples and bow with reverence in Hindu ones. I want them to sip a tea in Paris and write a journal entry in Rome. I tell them to study hard and work hard so that they can see the worlds we read about in our books. They also know I want them to make the world more beautiful. And I love that one of my students piped up, "And you don't have to be an artist to make it more beautiful do you Mrs. Pellegrino." No. You certainly don't. Just be decent. Be honest. Be loyal. Be thoughtful. Be true to your belief system. Like the character in the book, my students will discover with age that this is indeed the hardest task to accomplish.

But they then sat confused. The character's third task, returning to the sea, stumped them. "Why do you want us to move to the sea? Why is that something you want for us?"

It took a few more probing questions but they finally nailed it. They seemed to hit on the notion that the sea just means returning home, to share what you know. To share what you've seen. To teach.

I looked out, at my small sea, and wished them all adieu. My heart quietly whispered for them to one day come home. Make the world here better. More beautiful.

Happy Summer.