I run a nature-based preschool. The other day when the teachers pulled the cover off of the sandbox, there was a snake in there. The teachers (and children) called me over to take a look.
“It’s beautiful,” I said…and it was (I realize beauty is in the eye of the beholder). I wanted to make sure the kids (3-5 years old) didn’t see us panic. After all, this is a nature school…we are supposed to teach them to love and appreciate nature.
“What are we going to do?” the teachers asked.
It was a harmless snake, about two and a half feet long…but it obviously couldn’t stay in the sand box for the day.
We stood there pondering our coiled up visitor.
One of the teachers remarked, “Maybe we can have one of the dads help us.”
“Why would we need a dad to help us?”
“I knew you’d say that,” she replied, laughing.
Feeling sufficiently challenged, I grabbed a large push broom. I scooped the snake up with it (it magically coiled itself onto the brush) and I walked it right off the playground into the field.
I was determined to make sure that those spectating preschoolers didn’t get the message that a group of women must wait for a man to help with such a thing.
But, I’m a bit of a fraud.
There are definitely times when I do want a man to rescue me. My friend, Shane, can attest to that…having received this text from me just a couple of weeks ago…
“Sitting in car at house. Dead Battery. All four windows open. Rain starting. Girls in a play in 20. Waterworks engaged.”
“Oh boy. On my way.” He replied.
So, now you know my secret. Sometimes I am a slayer of dragons (at least in the eyes of preschoolers), and sometimes I am a damsel in distress…
In the words of Winston Churchill, I’m “a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma; but perhaps there is a key…”
Maybe I’m just like everybody else. Some days I feel as though I can handle anything put before me, and sometimes I want nothing more than for someone to swoop in and make everything okay.