I was five when the school district divided the city of Buffalo. It required me to ride a bus for an hour to the opposite side of town for a half day of kindergarten.
Mom planned to walk me across the street and down a thousand yards to the nearby school. So Mom didn’t send me to kindergarten.
When I turned six, Mom took me to the bus stop and waited until I was safely in the bus. Then I rode an hour across the city to attend first grade.
That first day we were taken to the gymnasium, a big scary place. A lady called our names for us to go with another woman. My name was never called and I stood there, the only child, alone. So I cried. They said my mother hadn’t registered me.
By the end of the day everything was sorted out and I had a nice teacher. Unfortunately, she put me on the wrong bus to go home. When the bus stopped close to dark, I lifted my head over the big seats, and again I was alone. And I cried.
But my mother had prepared me. I could recite my full name, address and phone number, knew my parents’ names, could count to a hundred and say the ABCs.
When I finally got home, my parents smiled and hugged me.
The best a parent can do is to prepare his child to go out into the world. But no parent can watch over his child every minute.
Only God can protect his little ones all the time. The Lord was watching over me that first day of school.
“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them.” Luke 18:16