Many decades ago (when I was 3 months old) on our way back from Saudi Arabia, my parents stopped in Spain for the first time. While there, my mom picked up a pair of earrings in Toledo that look just like these:
(she still has them at home, I just never remember to take a picture of them)
For as long as I was still playing dress up, these were the only pair I would pick up to play with. Something in the ornate craftsmanship drew me in. To this day she still wears them out & they never fail to remind me of my childhood, scavenging through her makeup bag. Well. My mom remembered just how much I loved them and came back with a pair just for me. The best part is that she remembered how I only wear my "dangly" earrings on special occasions. She came back with Toledo-style studs for moi.
Then comes, my dad, the goofiest, head-in-the-clouds, doesn't understand teacher hours man gave me this:
A tacky tile that says, "here lives a teacher".
You may be wondering why this is at all special but, for me it feels like some sort of recognition on behalf of my dad. Ever since I became a teacher, I have felt that he has pushed me to be something else. I think he's believed that his daughter was capable of "more". But I don't think the magnitude & responsibility my career carries sunk in until last year when I asked him to come set up my 4th grade classroom one weekend. As he punched out letters, arranged my library and carefully arranged my Mr. Potato family: I think it was just busy work. Then when I asked him to accompany me on one of the field trips, he got to see the impact I get to make on a yearly basis. For him to bring this tile back (when he usually brings the hotel pens) means the world.
Now as you walk into Mildred, the tile (and Doakes) are the first thing to greet you.
Gracias d-a-d & mom!