There are 38 children waiting for me this morning.
They are spread across 6 grade levels.
And I am their teacher.
While I am helping one child learn to read, another may be waiting for help with fractions.
It isn’t easy. But every morning, I look around my classroom and see children who want to learn.
What does it take for a child to keep choosing school when so many responsibilities are pulling them elsewhere?
For some of my students, simply being here is an accomplishment. Life in our rural communities can be difficult. Some children help their families fish, forage or trap small animals for food. Others may be needed at home to care for younger brothers and sisters. And for some children, going to school can mean giving up a day’s work that would help support their family.
Yet they come.
They come because they want to learn. They understand that education can give
them more choices and open doors that might otherwise remain closed.
That’s what keeps me here, too.
I have the privilege of watching my students learn and progress despite the difficulties they may experience at home. I see their confidence grow, and I know that what they learn here can create opportunities they may not otherwise have.
But determination can only take us so far. When there aren’t enough pencils, notebooks or desks, my students share.
Sometimes, they simply go without.
If I could dream about what my school might have one day, I would dream about
internet access, computers, tablets, perhaps even a projector.
My dream is technology. My reality is pencils and notebooks.
Schools in remote rural communities like ours receive little assistance, even though
our children are just as eager to learn.
Recently, Friends of Honduran Children reached our school with much-needed educational supplies.
The journey itself tells you something about where we teach. The road only goes so far. From there, boxes of supplies were carried by hand, across a stream and along the path to our school. What arrived may have seemed ordinary. To us, it meant more students could take part in their lessons and I had more of the basic tools I needed to teach them.
But those supplies meant something else, too.
They told us that someone, somewhere,
remembered our little school. I don’t know the
people in Canada who made these supplies
possible. But I want you to know what your
kindness means here. You thought about children
you may never meet. You believed their
education mattered.
“ Someone saw a rural school in need, and
chose not to look away.”
For that, we are deeply grateful.
I wish I could tell you that receiving these supplies removes every challenge my students face. It doesn’t. Some will still be needed at home. Some families will still depend on the work their children can do. And I will still be teaching children across six different grade levels.
But when a child makes the choice to come to school, having the basic materials they need means one less obstacle standing between them and their education. Without that extra support, my students do what they have always done: they share what they can, make do with what is available, and sometimes go without.
Tomorrow morning, my students will be waiting for me again. I’ll be there. And I will keep doing everything I can to help them learn, because I have seen what education can mean in the life of a child.
Thank you for standing alongside rural teachers and the children who are working so hard to learn.
With heartfelt gratitude,
P.S. These dedicated teachers and students are doing their part against enormous odds every day. Your gift to Friends of Honduran Children today helps us support education where resources are scarce. Please donate today to help the children in Honduras.
Mailing Address
PO Box 853 Peterborough ON K9J 7A2
Office Address
175 George St N Peterborough ON K9J 3G6
FoHC Website
www.honduranchildren.com
Phone
705-749-1900