The strings that connect us.

It was my 3 year old son's first day in a new class at preschool this morning. I ran late for work getting him ready and out the door. He slept most of the ride but woke up a couple of miles away from the school and we talked about a new class and new friends to meet -- he seemed ok.

Once we got inside, he wanted to go to his old class and I reminded him he had a new one and we walked through a different door and made our way in. There were roughly ten other kids -- a couple he knew, but he stayed close by and looked a little uneasy. I met his teacher and then sat down with him while we looked around at all the toys. After about 10 minutes I got up to leave and saw a look on Sam's face I had never seen before. His eyes teared up and he buried his face in my leg and asked me to stay. Sam cries now and again like all other kids; when he's hurt, when he doesn't get his way. But this was very different and really pulled at something inside of me. I had never seen Sam genuinely afraid before. Even though I was running late, I stayed with him another 20 minutes until more kids came and he seemed to settle down.

I thought about him as I drove to work and the broad and strong connection I have with him. I hope that he knows and understands that I always think about him and will be there when he needs me.