Her backpack loaded with new school supplies, my daughter and I marched off to her first-grade orientation at the local school in our Muslim neighborhood. As we entered the building, all the teachers and staff members clapped to welcome her. We toured her classroom and met her teacher.
In so many ways, this North African first-grade orientation looked a lot like it would in America.
But in other ways, it was so different.
There was a disc jockey. They had a man dancing on stilts. Kids played on a bouncy slide. It was chaos. Fun chaos, yes. But also completely overwhelming. There were lots of instructions we didn’t understand, songs we didn’t know, and group dances with moves we’d never seen before.
Living in North Africa, there are times when I feel like a tiny goldfish suddenly plopped into a vast sea. This was one of those times.
But my daughter took it all in stride. Seeing the children and teachers she recognized made her so excited. She liked the balloons and the treats. She seemed a little embarrassed when she didn’t know the words to the national anthem. But she quickly recovered as her teacher led her to a classroom painted in bright colors, its walls plastered with alphabet posters in several languages.
Meanwhile, I felt shaken up for days. Questions and anxiety plagued my mind. What were we thinking, moving our child across the world to a Muslim community? Is the school system here really going to prepare her for the future? Is the educational environment nurturing enough? How can I help her through a childhood that looks nothing like my own?
But God keeps reminding us of this: He didn’t bring our daughter here to harm her, but to bless her and use her to bless others.
For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. — Jeremiah 29:11
As we step into the work God has called us to, we can trust our child—and her future—to His good and faithful plans.
Yesterday, as I tucked my first-grader into bed, I heard about her new school friend Hamida. She told me that Hamida sits with her at lunch, and she has a sparkly llama bracelet—all ingredients for the start of a meaningful first-grade friendship.
“She’s like a sister,” my daughter told me.
That’s exactly the sort of blessing I hoped for.
**This account comes from a long-term worker. Names and places have been changed for security.**
Main photo by USAID/CGutierrez
Original article: https://frontiersusa.org/blog/first-day-of-first-grade