Gorma Tales of the Camino: Joanna’s School for Brilliant Children
As Gorma passed through a small village on a steep hillside, she paused at a fountain to refill her water jug. She heard the laughter of happy children, and turned to see a class of children and their teacher all walking from the nearby school to the tiny library on the corner near the fountain. As the teacher smiled, Gorma saw a gap between her front teeth, and called out to her.
“So you have received the Holy Kiss?” Gorma asked the teacher, who smiled again, and turned to hug Gorma in a warm embrace.
“Oh, Gorma, Gorma, what are you talking about now?” she asked. Her name was Joanna, and her hug warmed you like a blanket on a rainy night.
“You do not know the story?” Gorma asked. “I will tell you. But first, tell me, how does such a small village have so many happy, eager students?”
“Ah, that is easy. This is the School for Brilliant Children. I am their lucky teacher,” Joanna replied smiling, and Gorma saw the gap between her front teeth again.
“I see,” said Gorma, taking a long drink of the cool fountain water. “And how are the children chosen for this school?”
“Oh, Gorma, Gorma, that’s easy,” Joanna answered. “All children are brilliant. So of course, they are all chosen.”
“And what if some have difficulties with the school work?” What if some of the children struggle?” Gorma asked.
“Oh, Gorma, Gorma, they all struggle!” Joanna laughed now, and her laughter was like a happy song. “If some have need of extra help or understanding with the learning, then we spend time reassuring them, each one, that they can learn, that they can communicate their questions and their feelings to us, and we can understand each child, and how they learn best. We show them their brilliance, like holding up a mirror for them to see themselves, clearly.
“But what if they have other struggles?” Gorma asked. “What if they are sad?”
“If they are learning just fine, but have other sadness, or fears, or anger in their lives, then they come to me, and I let them talk, or draw, or craft in clay, each one, until they see their feelings there before them, made into a work of art. Until they see that they are brilliant children carrying heavy stories, is all. Often, brilliant children must also be strong children.”
Gorma took another drink from the fountain. “And how do you teach lessons in your School for Brilliant Children?”
“Oh, Gorma, Gorma, why games, of course! Children learn through play, so we have counting games and spelling games, garden play and cooking play; challenges for running like a horse and swimming like a fish, and challenges for sitting very still and quietly, like a butterfly, or singing sweetly like a thrush while perched in a tree. And always, we have laughter, and smiles, and hands to hold, hugs to share. It is a busy day of learning, and a happy one.”
“Yes, it is quite clear you have received the Holy Kiss,” Gorma nodded, pleased.
“Are you talking about this gap in my teeth again?” Joanna asked, shaking her head and laughing like an angel.
“Indeed I am,” Gorma answered. “It is said that this gap is where the Spirit of All That Is Sacred passed through as the Breath Of All Life, bestowing this Holy Kiss upon you with the air you breathe.” For Gorma knew it is in the tiniest gaps, the small moments of space and time allowed to us, that we find the sacred, within life, within others, and within ourselves.
At this, Joanna hugged Gorma tight. Tears came to her eyes. “It is only the fact that each child is brilliant,” Joanna protested.
“It is only the fact,” Gorma countered, “that you give each brilliant child the space to shine.”
Then Gorma smiled back at Joanna, and sent her on her way to retrieve her students from the library, where they had each found a book of interest and wonder to carry with them. They all filed past, back to school, happy and laughing, each with a friend beside them.
Gorma walked on, quiet and smiling, and arrived at the next albergue just in time for a bed, for which she was very grateful, and she slept deeply. Outside, the brilliance of the stars was so bright, all the darkness of the night glowed with billions of possibilities.
Buen Camino, Joanna.