The night before we got the final pathology report, I laid in bed and prayed. “God, chemo or no chemo, whatever needs to be done, I accept it. I will trust in you and your plan for my life. But please, God, let me read to the kindergarteners this year. That’s all I want. Please just let me read to Ben’s kindergarten class.”

I volunteered in the school library last year. Every Friday, I got to read to the kindergarten class, help them pick out books and talk with them about the power of kindness. It was the highlight of my week, every week, for the entire school year.

This year, Ben is the kindergartener. He asked me before school started if I could read to his class this year. Oh… what that does to a momma’s heart to hear her little boy say he wants her to be part of whatever it is he is doing. I wanted to say, “Absolutely!” but I knew I couldn’t make that promise until after I talked with the doctors about my treatment plan.

So here I am, sitting in the airport on my way home the second opinion. And it’s starting to sink in. Not as elation or joy or a weight lifted from my shoulders, but as immense gratitude. I get to read to my son’s kindergarten class. For sure. Absolutely. No thoughts in the back of my mind wondering what the next doctor will say. It brings tears to my eyes.

If you need me on Wednesday afternoons this year, call the school. That’s where I’ll be. Thank you, God.