Life is a vapor. Leave a mark.
Teaching is an art not for the faint of heart.
The classroom is a battleground for the minds of our next generation.
The good teacher fights the conflict. A great teacher motivates the student to fight the conflict.
If you are called to teach, you are a warrior fighting for the next generation.
The hardest part of the battle is choosing to love a child’s future enough to pick up the sword today.
Every delivery room has an orchestra of noises: groans, cries, screams, yells, songs, whispers, and cheers.
The cry of a heart, no matter the occasion, is universal. Recognized. Known. Understood. It runs deep and lands raw.
Joy or sorrow. Love or hate.
Mercy or bitterness. Fight or fright.
The mother in the backdrop story lost her child, and her heart cried. The mother in the blackout poem gained a child, and her heart cried. It’s the music of living.
The concerts of life flow from the rhythm of our hearts. It is a beautiful and gut-wrenching sound that brings depth and meaning to our life. Live and love hard. Moments make music.
Vapormarks