Dear “people-in-positions-who-made-pre-school-an-opportunity-for-Lucy,” and dear, dear preschool teachers,
I am so elated right now that I must write you a letter to expound on my eternal thankfulness to you.
You see, I just asked my daughter to write her name.
She is three. She has a syndrome that labels her as “slow” which makes every milestone that much more exciting.
You changed my daughter’s life when you accepted her to your preschool. And you didn’t put up with her fits. And you understood when she screamed her head off the entire first week.
I know I sound dramatic. Sure, school changes lives all the time.
But Lucy is a new girl.
We can reason with her (sometimes…but that’s a heck of a lot better than extremely rarely as it was before).
She can count.
She is talking in full sentences.
She is ultra polite. (She even says “bless you” when I sneeze and my heart melts every time.)
She wears her “school shoes” instead of her crocs.
She LOVES the bus (which was definitely not always the case).
She is genuinely happy.
Now, I know that yes, she has a loving family, and yes, any child would grow and develop with four live-in therapists (her siblings). But preschool has given her the extra boost that she desperately needed, and will continue to need as she grows.
And our family can never thank you enough.