Hugs and Hallways

I had a rare opportunity to substitute teach at my kids’ international school. Honestly, I felt like an impostor. I’ve spent the past 15 months living in a foreign country, eating (delicious) foreign food, and struggling hardcore at a foreign language …so impostor syndrome is not a new feeling. But it’s still an ugly one to struggle against. My education is in social work, and my work was focused in the mud where the only kids I interacted with were suffering the tragedy of violence in their homes. Education isn’t my passion - but growth in people is. Which, if we are grinding down to the basics are quite similar. But like I said before, I was a substitute which at it’s meaning is a temporary replacement for the real thing…so, impostor. I was waiting in the hall for the next group of littles headed my way for class and I was feeling low. What am I doing here in this hallway? Who the heck am I suppose to be anymore? When will this transplant life feel rooted? I saw my son heading down the stairs. He was going to the class just beyond the one I was standing in front of. The last thing I wanted to do was cause him any embarrassment in front of his peers, so I looked away - searching the hallways for the incoming class. “MamA!” he called out to me. That kid, growing up and now stretching beyond my height, stopped right in front of me with his arms stretched wide. His friends, his peers passing by gawking and he didn’t care. His face didn’t say pity, it didn’t say embarrassment, or selfishness. It didn’t say impostor. It said “MamA!” I love you. I took that hug, there in the hallway that had moments ago swallowed me in insignificance. And I thanked God for hugs and hallways. For insignificance and love.