Last year when I first came to GGIS, I taught a new class called Reading Workshop to a group of 16 7th graders who were more diverse than any other class I had taught before. I had straight-A, incredibly gifted students, average students, and students who could not string 3 words together to form a sentence in English. They were all in my classroom, and I was supposed to be conducting a reading class with them, with the hopes that they would learn to love books.
Before I knew who my class would be, I decided to start the year with The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, by C.S. Lewis. This book is a personal favorite of mine, and allows for a lot of meaningful conversation and introduction to such topics as forgiveness, redemption, and sacrifice. I felt like it was the right choice.
Somehow, despite the vast learning gaps and frequent lack of vocabulary we had an incredible time reading this book together. We laughed and cried and identified with each of the Pevensie children. With Lucy, whose heart was so pure and genuine... with Susan, who was logical and careful. With Peter, whose bravery and leadership won our hearts. And, of course, with Edmund. The one whose treachery and selfishness made way for the most glorious part of the story.
We spoke of redemption. Of our sin that separates us from God, and the great love that brought Him all the way down to us to buy us back. These were powerful classes. Amazing group discussions... every teacher's dream come true.
Among those 7th grade students were several brand-new, zero-English Chinese girls. Among those girls, there was one who especially stood out to me. We will call her Mia. Her eyes were always down, her voice so soft that she could barely be heard. Her hair covered her face most of the time, and she seemed frightened and in shock.
I didn't know much about Mia, except that the school she came from in China had been a very bad experience. I continued teaching, talking to her, gently touching her arm on purpose each time I walked by. Eventually, she began to brighten. Her face was a little more visible, her voice finally above a whisper. Her English level was very low, but she began to show the tiniest bit of confidence.
As the months went by, we learned that she loved to draw. She was not just an average artist, but really, really amazing. I assigned a special creative project for the end of the book, and she drew something I will never forget. It was a portrait of Aslan... just his head and his giant mane. And both Lucy and Susan were curled up inside his lion locks, with their fists clinging tightly and their eyes closed in overwhelming emotion. This picture meant so much to me... it spoke to me of this student's journey, and the refuge that she was discovering in the love of God.
This school year, I do not have the privilege of having her as a student, but I see her in the halls, and make a point to connect with her often. She has come to all of our Noodle Club meetings, and has grown by leaps and bounds. She holds her head up high, she laughs in the hallways, she has friends, she speaks clearly and often. Her heart is being healed, and she is opening up like a flower.
Sadly, she will leave the school tomorrow, and go to a different international school next year... one where she can pursue art more seriously. She has not yet put her faith in Christ, but she knows that He loves her. On several occasions, she has explained to me how difficult it would be for her to become a Christian. She is scared of what it would mean for her family. She is confused about what it means for her as a Chinese person. But she knows love. Absolutely.
When I found out that she was leaving, I wanted to get her a special gift. I thought about The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and wondered about trying to find it in Chinese. I did some searching, only to find high shipping costs and too-long shipping times. I had just about given up, but decided to ask around among the other Chinese students to see if they had any ideas. In this community, connections are everything. Someone told me about someone whose father was in China and traveling back to Hungary the following week. I decided to give it a shot. I spoke with the other student and told him what I was looking for, never really expecting anything to come of it. He said he would talk to his father, and when he walked away, I dismissed the idea entirely, thinking that I might find her some other small gift.
The next week I was sitting in my classroom, when this same student walked in. "Mrs. Colby, do you remember that book you asked about?"
"Oh, yes."
"Well, my dad... just got back from China."
"It's all right. It's really no problem... I totally understand."
"No, no. You don't understand. He brought you these."
And he handed me the entire set of The Chronicles of Narnia. All 7 books. Brand new. In Chinese.
I stood there in shock. My mouth was probably hanging open like in the cartoons.
Speechless.
We exchanged some polite words, and he left the room. Left me standing there with this beautiful pile of books in my hands. This gift that I barely asked for. This gift that I did not have great faith to produce. This gift.
The books felt so heavy, so important. I knew that they were directly from God for Mia. In that moment, I felt the weight of our purpose. We open our hands and freely receive a gift. When the gift is in our hands, we almost have no choice but to pass it on to the one for whom it was intended. There was so much joy, so much excitement in knowing God had done this.
The room felt empty, the pile of books almost burning in my arms. This gift. The story of redemption to a sweet, broken girl whose life has been changed forever by love.
“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe