My uncle — a devotee of Henri J,M, Nouwen — recently recommended Nouwen’s Here and Now to me. He assured me “You’re going to like it!”

He’s right, I do. But I wonder if he thought my like and inspiration would start with the acknowledgments and preface?

The acknowledgements reminded me of the importance of friends who give help, support, and time. Henri expresses gratitude for their “competence, kindness, and generosity.” He continued to express gratitude to others who gave him “a safe home away from home.” I love all of those things: friends, seeing the blessings given us in and by our friends, expressing gratitude, and perhaps most touching to me right now “a safe home away from home.”

A safe home away from home. My first thoughts go to a lovely couple who rent a B&B to me each summer. They couldn’t be more kind and invested in making their home a safe home away from home for me. Then my thoughts go to my aunt and uncle, who for years hosted my mother and me for each of my Dana-Farber visits. What an incredible blessing both these homes away from home are to me. I can’t imagine my trips without them, and the people who make them amazing.

Then, my thoughts turned to a different sense of home. Not a building but a feeling, not a physical space but an emotional one. As a friend, a teacher, a human, I am called to do that for everyone I come in contact with. Do I make time for the person who helps me in the grocery store or the Post Office, or do I rush through the moments that could create a small moment of home for them? As a friend, do I take the time to stop and listen, giving my friend my time, energy, and the intention and wish for safety and happiness? For that matter do I do that as a daughter and sister, or do I take our home and love for granted and crank instead? When I do, that energy removes a bit of the safety and love of home.

And finally, what about as a teacher? Is my classroom a safe home away from home? It is my goal and hope. Does the fact that my Kinders frequently call me mom mean I’m doing it? Perhaps. When they come in with joy and eagerness, willing to take risks, perhaps it’s proof my hope is realized. Even so, I am never complacent — or at least mostly never. I try to watch, listen, reflect, and talk with my students and their parents to learn if they are feeling safe, happy, welcomed, and at home.

A parent I just met at the end of last year was telling me about her experience of my learning space. She commented on its beauty and the fact that it clearly showed the care with which I curate my space. Then she said, “Your space is beautiful — your chair, the lovely things hanging from the ceiling, your tree, the lights. When I walked in, I felt like I was home.”

Wow.

I’m teaching Pre-K this year. I’m sad to leave my Kinders and all the fantabulousness we have co-created there. My sadness is totally ok, acceptable, and right. As it comes, I feel it. Then I breathe and remind myself there are endless possibilities of fantabulousness and home to co-create in Pre-K.

Kindergarten has been a safe home away from home for me and all the Kinders I’ve been blessed to have with me for all these years. Pre-K will be another safe home away from home. How do I know? Because I will be there, with my marvelous teaching team, the amazing Pre-Kers and their remarkable parents. Together, we will co-create a safe, beautiful, joyful, and magical home away from home filled with delight, curiosity, exploration, and learning.