Last week I attended my first graduation service for one of the city’s international schools. And while I’ve been to my fair share of graduations — having literally stumbled into youth ministry at the young age of 19 — this one was different.
I had always been happy for the graduates, never sad. I knew I’d see them at Thanksgiving, and at Christmas, and again during their summer break. I would probably be at their wedding in a few years, and maybe even at their baby shower.
Not so here. Here, graduates say goodbye, and often, it’s forever. So we all say goodbye, knowing it might be forever. And every year there are those who leave, never to return, even though they’re not graduates. Students, teachers, others.