This was originally meant to be an anecdote contained within an entirely different post as part of an entirely different thread. The anecdote turned into a full fledged story and I almost discarded it but decided at the last minute to just clean it up and post it as a story all its own. It's a true story from my life

I recall the first time I had the opportunity to work with children. I was in my early 20s by then and it was my first time teaching children in a church setting. Well, actually, it was my first time teaching anyone in any setting. I had finally overcome depression about a year earlier and had matured as a Christian in the process. For many years, boys had been almost mythical creatures to me. They were angel-like beings I could admire from a distance but could never hope to relate with. The idea that I would one day know many boys by name and that they would know me was unimaginable. I would watch groups of boys together and could not conceive of one day actually being part of their world. Yet here I was in front of this classroom and all of these children were looking at me. It occurred to me at that moment that these were those mythical beings I had cherished from a distance and here they were in front of me, and that thought totally blew my mind. I remember thinking "wow, I'm really here...they are all really looking at me..." right before I had a sense of fear rise up as I wondered if I was in way over my head. I didn't wanna freak out, so I stopped myself from thinking too much and dove right into the lesson. I quickly got into that zone where the notes become pointless and all of the right things just flow out; I suppose a more charismatic believer would call this the spirit speaking through me. The kids were getting it, questions were being asked, they were into it and I was into it and everything was great. The lesson I was giving was designed to challenge them through inspiration. It was actually working! By the end of it, it really felt like something out of Dead Poets Society; the kids had been inspired and after the last words were uttered, once that final challenge came out of my mouth, the room erupted into applause. I realized at that moment that this is not what they were accustomed to; they had been "in the zone" as much as I had. I had no idea what to do anymore at that moment, I was out of the zone now, it was over, and they were clapping. I couldn't keep myself from smiling and while I realize now that I should not have accepted all the credit since surely God was the one who moved, the only thing I could think of at the time was to say "thank you". It had been better than I had ever imagined it could be.

As I put this down in writing today for the first time, it starts sinking in just how unbelievable the whole situation was. While writing this, I had to actually consider whether I should be toning it down for the sake of ensuring people don't think I'm exaggerating. I mean this isn't the movies, kids don't clap for teachers, do they? But that's how it happened. At the time it felt like the pinnacle of the mountain I'd been scaling my whole life. It was a real hollywood-like moment and I thought "It doesn't get better than this".

As time went on, I grew accustomed to my new situation. Being around boys no longer gave me that "I can't believe I'm really here" feeling. Boys were now a regular part of my life and hanging out with them became just a normal everyday thing. Even times when I got "in the zone" during a really good lesson, I stopped feeling like Robin Williams in the aforementioned film; being in that zone wasn't the way lessons always went, but it became a common feature of all the really good ones. The boys too, grew accustomed to my style and I never did get applause again though I did get good feedback in other ways from time to time.

While I still feel it doesn't get better than that, I was wrong about it being the pinnacle. It turns out that was only the first step...