During third period this morning I was going over the study guide for our upcoming test when a hand goes up. It's Waif Boy, one of the tinier kids on my team. (We seem to have cornered the market on twelve-year-olds that look like they are eight.)
"Mrs Bluebird," he asks after I call on him, "Is it raining?"
I listen for a moment and realize that yes, Waif Boy is right. "It sure sounds like it," I say and continue on with the study guide review.
We do a few more questions and I realize that the kids aren't really paying attention. They're too busy listening to the rain. It's a sound we haven't heard for a good long while, as evidenced by the extreme drought we've had since winter. In fact, we're well below half the normal rainfall for the year. Since my room is windowless, the kids couldn't see the rain, but they were turning their heads towards the back door where the sound was coming from.
"Okay," I say. "Let's stop for a minute. We can't go outside right now, but I'm going to open the back door so we can see the rain for a bit." I walk over and push the door open to a heavy gray sky, a steady rain, and water rushing off the roof of The School.
The kids all lean towards the door and let out a collective, "Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh."
I couldn't agree more.