I have never really enjoyed surprises. 

As I’ve gotten older I’ve gotten better, and I think I’m more used to life offering ample amounts of surprises…

Good and Bad.

I don’t like Horror Films. Don’t answer the freaking door…

I love finding old love letters from Dyp and the kids. 

I don’t like Mysteries. It was Colonel Mustard in the drawing room with the candlestick. 

I love old photos, and surprise coffee dates with friends. 

I don’t love finding Unflushed surprises, and dirty wet clothes smelly and tucked under a bed. 

But today I got a sweet little surprise. 

I started working with them in first grade. 

They call me Mamacita. 

I’ve been able to teach them PE as a volunteer.

And choreographed and helped with some of their Fiesta Dances.

Some of them call me Snow White. 

I’ve chaperoned Field Trips.

One brought me a flowers years ago when he knew I’d had a hard day teaching them. 

Two of them challenged me to a dance off last year.

One actually followed through with it. 

I still think I won. 

Most of them still hug me when they see me. 

A few of them call me Mom…

Only one of them is biologically mine. 

And I love them. 

Each and everyone of them. 

Now they are in Fifth Grade. 

Next year they are off to Middle School. 

They are changing and growing. 

Some are becoming awkward and lanky. 

A couple roll their eyes at things I say. 

But most still laugh. 

Today I came to dance with them, and work with them. 

They didn’t know…

I was a little down.

A little body conscious.

A lot tired. 

Having a Bad hair day. 

My list mostly unchecked.

All my flaws on the surface…to me. 

And then I saw them…

They hugged me, and they called me Mamacita.

Like always.

And they surprised me. 

They made me a shirt…

Their names, their words, brought sweetness and light into my heart.

They had no idea how much it meant. 

How much it means. 

How much I will always cherish it. 

How much I will always love them…

It was the best little surprise- from the best fifth graders in the world.