I knew it was coming, and yet it still caught me by surprise. The last day with the preschoolers was practically perfect. They each had a thoughtful present for me... gift cards to my favorite bakery, a blooming plant, an Amazon card, homemade brownies, a decoration for my sewing room. Maybe the children understood that they weren't coming back next Monday. Probably not. 

But I do. 

We began as we always have, flitting about the room from serving tea and wooden fruit, to cutting paper into bits. The trains were out in force, and the dress ups made us all feel festive. We sang a few favorites, because why wouldn't we sing, and sat down for snack. I Spy pops up every time we eat, and I laughed at how successfully we have trained them to talk with their mouths full.  Because if someone says they spy something yellow how can you not answer immediately? The weather was glorious, and we ran outside to the playground. The sun was bright, the sky was blue, the sand was warm and we could have enjoyed it for hours, but the parents were waiting back in the classroom for the finale. 

First we had a sing along, though the kids were so enthralled with having their parents there the volume of their voices was less by half. No matter. It was still fun. One child had her parents, her grandparents and even her great grandparents. Such a host of people who love them. Inexhaustible really. 

For a special treat we dipped strawberries in chocolate. Life is too short not to. We brought out the parachute and the excitement of its flapping colors was as much as they could contain, having barely wiped the chocolate from their lips. Then we played a game called Cookie Machine, where each child gets a turn to be lifted into the air by a conveyor belt of strong arms. 

And just like that it was over. 

Being with little ones has been a constant in my life. I had at least one child under four for twenty five consecutive years. Now I will have to practice all they taught me, about enjoying each slice of apple, tenderly cradling the baby doll, snipping paper for the sheer joy of watching it change shape. 

I am not sure if they will recognize me in a few years when they have moved on to storybooks and the big slide. 

But I will remember them. And retain my membership in the host that loves them.