A Teacher's Benediction [Original Poetry]

May God bless you and keep you

in the profession.

May the Lord make at least one window in your classroom

that natural light may shine upon you (but not the projector screen).

May He fill your shelves with diverse, high-interest books for all reading levels

and preserve them, spotless,

until the end of the year (at the very least).

May He watch over the pencils you lend,

that not one be lost (or shattered, to be scattered on your floor).

May He grant you

daily prep periods,

adequate bathroom breaks,

manageable class sizes,

Chromebooks that are fully charged,

administration who do not heap onto you heavy burdens

they do not bear themselves,

professional development relevant to your teaching practice,

students who email you in five years to say

"You changed my life."

But above all, may He––

all-wise, all-knowing––

give you wisdom (liberally, artfully, with mathematical precision,

exactly

what you need

when the copier jams,

when the website crashes,

when the parents rage and the students imagine an impossible thing––

namely, that their late work will be magically graded

within minutes of a weeks-late submission,

when the lesson flops,

when that one kid does that one thing

the one day you need things to go right)

that you, too, may learn.