So there I was just last week, co-facilitating
resiliency training for a group of fourth graders. I glanced across the
gymnasium and noticed a familiar face. My third grade teacher!
When I reached 99% certainty it was her, I
called her name. She eventually put two-and-two together who I was, and we
caught up for a few minutes during a break in the action. Needless to say, we
both felt old in our own ways.
Part of feeling old is reminiscing, so today I
dug my 3rd grade yearbook from the attic vault. Here are some observations: