The Next Hard Part of Our Move

He's eight now. Today is the first day of thrid grade for him. He's scared. He started crying quitely when I said it was time for me to go. He kept up a strong front as long as I stood there beside him. He's old enough to be self-conscious about crying. But it's tough being eight, moving to a new town because of Dad's job, starting a new school where you don't know anyone. I know he'll be fine, but I want it to be easy for him. I want him to have a great year and make great friends. I asked the boy sitting next to him if he liked video games. "I like football video games." Westin's eyes lit up. "I have a football video game." (But we hardly ever play it - was my silent thought.) Westin tried, "Do you like Sonic?" (His current favorite). The other little boy shook his head no. The conversation died. My heart broke. Dear Lord, let this year go well. Please take care of my boy.