Yearbook!

2nd grade may be remembered for many things out here....but it will go down in Winkie's history as the first year ever that he got his own yearbook!

Yes, it took me that long to order one for him at the end of a schoolyear, for that is how much of a non-school savvy Mom I have been. To have missed out on what is obviously a very looked-forward to school tradition for any kid....well it happened very naturally and year after year with us, because I just didn't *get* how important it was. Or what a small simple pleasure it is. And I may have just given it a miss this year too, had it not been for some mute sixth sense, that made me a wee bit more proactive and just in the nick of time, which can only be attributed to Divine Providence.

As expected, it was a last minute thing, because I did not order it when the forms came in. Nope. I thoughtlessly relegated all those school communications as non-important, and not concerning me, until yesterday when an email came, announcing that the last few copies were still available for those who wanted it. That's when a lightbulb flickered somewhere. But it was not until the next morning, that I felt compelled to do anything about it.

As I woke Winkie up this morning, I asked him what a yearbook was. Because I wasn't really sure. And the fellow who had been fast asleep a moment before, sprang up from bed and started explaining how a yearbook had pictures of everyone and how everyone signed it, and how he had never had one all these years of school and I swear I almost saw his eyes well up with tears. His serial number is 8 in class, and he portrayed the scene where all the numbers were called out one by one.....1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...and just as it came to 7, he would hold his breath and start wishing desperately that somehow, this time, his number would not be skipped. 7, 9...! And his heart would break just a little tiny sliver of a piece and mine into a thousand as I heard the melancholy in his voice.

The feeling that he had just described was not new to me. In fact, I have had several of those times in my school life, where I always felt apart from the rest of the crowd in some way....not quite belonging, but wishing desperately to be ordinary, just like everyone else, to fit in, to belong. So as I pictured that little tender heart inside him, wishing for that same thing, but instead facing the non-fairytale ending that is biting reality, I did feel a lot of heartache. In fact, I couldn't stand knowing that I had been the cause of such a bitter disappointment for him.

I realised then, with extreme clarity, how having a child really is about feeling the pain and happiness of another, as your own, and with a heightened of sentiment if possible. Just for that short period, you do lose a sense of your limited self and expand and grow more open to the feelings that course through another's veins, as if it were your own. And it hurts. Both the pain and the pleasure of it.

So hearing the story of his number being skipped everytime, did it for me and I hurried downstairs to act on that email. I frantically typed a reply asking for an extra copy, feeling positive that this story could still have its fairytale ending after all. Winkie's class was getting theirs signed that day, and I might just be able to get it to him on time. Such was my daydream. It lasted all of 10 minutes when I checked my email again only to read that all those extra copies had been sold out. Uh oh! But she did go on to mention that she might be getting some extra copies over the weekend and I could call back in to check the next day, but it was first come first serve basis. I said I would call back and try my luck.

And that, I thought, was that. This was Thursday, and now he wouldn't get it on time for last full day of school (Monday), so I might as well break the news to him. When he came down all ready and packed, I gave him the grim tidings and his face fell a little, but I made it up to him, by giving back to him his camera, which had been confiscated as a previous punishment, and which he was to get back only near his birthday. But now he was getting it a whole 10 days early. He was stunned and happy and joyous and excited. And he clicked and smiled and was his usual cheery, breakfasting self. And I marvelled at how easy it still was to distract him and make him happy.

Once I got to work, I checked my mail again. And once more, there was a mail from this lady who I will henceforth call an angel, for that is the role she assumed in all of this. She wrote saying, she had the PTA copy on her, and would I mind having that instead, to save on all the time of waiting? It had a little scratch on the side, she said, but other than that, looked as good as new. And I could pick it up this evening. I jumped at this sudden glimpse of a rainbow in the sky, and sent manifold blessings her way, as I hurriedly affirmed the plan of action (lest that be on a first come first served basis too...:D ), and didn't breathe a word of the same to Winkie when he got back home from school. He mentioned, without any pain how he had signed in all his friends' yearbooks and then went on to enjoy his camera some more.

Come 8:00 PM, I covertly left the house and drove over to Angel's home. She was there in her backyard, watering the plants and gave me the book and showed me the scratch, adding...I figured the PTA doesn't really need a yearbook, but this kid would! What a sweetheart!

I owe her a nice email right now, after I hit publish, telling her about my son's reaction, because boy! is it worth telling. I came home, hiding the book very cleverly beneath a bag, and he asked me where I had been, and as I was chattering away, I also managed to get the camera out and R hugged him at that precise time, to make it look like I was getting a picture of the 2 of them, and I slipped him the book over Winkie's unsuspecting head, and when they broke apart, Winkie caught sight of it, and started, then gasped and grabbed it, exclaiming....hey, that's a yearbook!


And his face! Oh his face! I will never forget that smile for as long as I live, and now you will see it too, thanks to all my expert planning! :D By now it had dawned on him that this had been planned and he gushed and went quiet and gushed and went speechless, all in turns. When he gushed, he said over and over how he couldn't believe it, and when he went quiet, it was to pore over the pages of his very own, very first yearbook and look for his class page. When he gushed again, it was to say that this was the best thing ever, and I know it was, and when he went quiet again, it was to flash the most heartful smile at me, and give me a hug of big thanks. It seems that all the kids would bring their books back to school tomorrow to get it signed by their teacher and the 2nd graders from the other classes, and he would very well have an opportunity to get his signed too. And there was a kid in his bus who hadn't got his copy either and they both talked about who among them was going to get his first, like in a contest, and by jove, Winkie wins this one doesn't he???!!!

It is 10:00 PM as he finally went off to sleep, tucking all his excitement under his pillow, with a lot of difficulty, gushing all the while of how tomorrow was going to be his best day EVER!

And as for me.........well, my heart is full after all that emotional breaking. And I feel keenly how much Winkie deserves this happiness, for he asks of so little from us, always accepting a lot of our no's, well meant as they are, with a wonderful forbearance. And I reflect on how sweet is the joy of gain for a little heart, when bitterly difficult has been the pain of denial. Winkie has been through a tremendous low and then a giddying high, which has helped him live out the pulse of life. But this doesn't call for a repeat performance of the same feat next year. Of that I am sure. :)