“My hearing aid died!”
4 words I never thought I’d speak at the age of 25. And yet, there I was, in the middle of my kindergarten classroom filled with 20 bouncy children, and all of a sudden I heard the dreaded sound in my ear that is my battery dying-preventing me from now hearing the mischief going on at the hands of 5 year olds. The rustles and giggles of students sitting only a few feet in front of me are now muffled. The strong voices I heard across the room are now distant and almost nonexistent. I could no longer hear the teacher down the hall, or the little sounds buzzing throughout the room. I felt almost alone, which is hard to imagine when I have at least 3 kiddos swarming at my feet every few seconds; but I felt just a shudder of loneliness in the midst of a busy classroom. I wanted to cry.
I saw my Ed Tech walk by the classroom door. “Lynda!” I called, louder than I probably would have had I been able to hear myself. “My hearing aid died!” A look of sadness fell over her face. She knows how badly I need it; she works along side me daily and knows how much it helps me. She ran around the school trying to find one for me, and finally came back with no luck. “I’ll run to the store for you!” She says.
My heart. That woman is so wonderful to me and everyone she works with. She is everyone’s second mom. She bends over backwards for the people she cares about, and in the middle of the morning, she made her way to Walmart to buy me some hearing aid batteries.
I popped a new one in, put the device back in my ear, and smiled with relief and happiness; I could once again hear the giggles, the loud mouths and the soft spoken. I was no longer alone.