The end is here.

Last Friday marked the close of the Wauseon Center, for kids anyway. I sent all my children on their way. They have made life hell for the last few months I've wanted to strangle them all at some time or another and by Wednesday most weeks I thought I'd never survive another day, but when I put them on the bus on Friday I had to fight back the tears. These children were like my own. I spent all day with them. I knew all of their little quirks, what kind of food they liked to eat and how they liked to be put to sleep. It was heartbreaking to see them go and know that you may never see them again because they are migrant children and may never return. Yesterday we packed up all of our belongings (we only rent rooms from the church) and I walked into my room completely empty. Again it was sad thinking about all of the memories in that room. As many times as I yelled and had to count to 10 and as many spilled glasses of milk and noses blown I still smiled and laughed with the kids so much more. We were like our own small family and now it's all packed up in boxes in some musty old storage unit. I don't know what day I'm officially done working it could be any day and to be real honest that worries me a little bit. Only because I like to be able to see the plan I like to know what's coming before it comes. I have a strengthened and much closer relationship with God now and I know that he isn't going to let me down. Some how the ends will all meet and everything will be OK. Working at TMC was one wild adventure full of stress, complaints, and hard work, but in the end the people I worked with were like family and I learned more than I could have ever imagined from a group of 1 year- olds.