A few years ago, I was staunchly anti-private school. 

“I was a product of public school and I had a great experience!”  I told my husband.

“I taught in a public school - this would make me a hypocrite!” I argued.

And yet, here we are, sending our son to kindergarten this year at Veritas Academy.  The details of the journey that led us to Veritas is another topic for another day (and a story I would love to share).

In the months leading up to our Big School Decision I heard a podcast that addressed the "Great School Debate" and weighed the options facing parents today.  The podcast, called Inspired to Action: The Great School Debate, described their experience with a small Christian school as “a warm hug.”  As the mom of a six year old introvert with a strong desire to be with his parents all hours of the day, the idea of school being a “warm hug” was intriguing to me.

From the moment I first observed the Veritas kindergarteners singing “Holy, Holy, Holy” on my first tour of the school, I knew this was the environment I wanted for my son.  The structure, the excellent education, the emphasis on manners, and the solid Biblical worldview had me at hello. 

We're now a few months into school, and he loves it too. His favorite subject, of course, is recess, where light saber fights rule the play yard and gaga ball separates the wheat from the chaff.  The thing he dislikes most about kindergarten?  The fact that it is over at lunch time.

You can understand my frustration, then, that it seems as though the apron strings that unite my son and I must be cut fresh each morning. There are usually tears, and intervention from his teacher is required.  I know when he is finally in the classroom he is doing his thing and he is thriving, but the transition from little boy to school child has been difficult.

Enter “the warm hug.”

One particular morning his teacher had to hold Levi’s hand as I walked away while tears and loud cries erupted.  I ducked in to the bathroom and waited for them to go in to the classroom because I wanted to walk by his room after a few minutes and make sure he wasn't still crying and disrupting the class.

When I snuck by, I witnessed more than just the peace I was hoping for.  I saw my son standing in the hall quietly, tears slowly drying, crying subsided, while his teacher, Mrs. Moses, knelt beside him, holding his hands, and praying with and for him.

Did God miraculously heal his social anxiety?  Not yet - but the transitions are getting easier.  But for this mama, knowing his teachers are not only the emotional version of a warm hug, but a spiritual one, too, helps me to rest a little easier.  I can walk down the hall after drop-off with confidence knowing my chid is seen, cared for, prayed over, and loved. 

And when he needs it, hugged.