As I near the end of my high school career, I’ve found myself looking back at how far I’ve come while also peering ahead at the uncertain future.

So far, this year has been a whirlwind, and as a senior, there is a certain urgency to make every moment count. However amidst the rush, I’ve learned that sometimes the best lessons do not come from textbooks or lectures, but from the unexpected voices of little kids.

This year, I’ve been given the opportunity to work as a teaching assistant in Ms. Lieu’s first grade class at Loganville Springfield Elementary, the same class I learned how to add and subtract in 10 years ago. The experience has been more rewarding than I could have ever imagined, partially because of the kids’ unfiltered and sometimes hilarious perspectives on the world.

As they offer their own take on the advice they have heard from parents and teachers or finish wise word sentence starters, I’ve realized their innocence gives a refreshing, honest perspective on life’s greatest truths.

Take, for example, the simple advice that Timmy shared: “Don’t run before you… look both ways.” 

It was a simple correction after a game of tag, but it struck me as surprisingly profound. 

Too often in high school, we rush into things, whether it is college decisions, relationships, or the future, without fully considering the consequences. Sometimes, we forget the importance of taking a moment to pause and assess the situation before diving in head first. 

Maybe we could all use a minute to slow down a bit and remember that the path forward is not always as clear as it may seem.

Then there is Lilly’s unexpected advice from her sentence starter: “The grass… is on fire.”

We might have expected her to say, “The grass is always greener on the other side.” 

But Lilly isn’t interested in the status quo or keeping up with anyone else. Instead, her grass is on fire. 

It’s a statement of her presence in the now, a reflection of her ability to fully enjoy something, to dive into the moment with such intensity that it becomes an inferno of happiness.

Lilly teaches me to stay in the blaze, to be in the present without worrying about what’s next. The fire may be wild, but it’s also where the purest joy lives. 

Another gem came from little Phoebe: “There’s no place like… Ocean City.” At first, I thought she was simply talking about her latest family vacation again, but I soon realized that she was offering more than just a statement of her enjoyment of the beach.

For many of us, life after high school can seem like a mess of change and uncertainty, but when things get overwhelming, it’s important to remember that there are places, moments, and people in our lives that offer a sense of peace and grounding, just like the comfort of a familiar vacation spot. Ocean City, for me, symbolizes a kind of hide away from the noise, a reminder to slow down and reconnect with what matters most. 

And, of course, it’s where all the seniors flock after graduation to celebrate and unwind, marking the transition into the next phase of life. 

Another saying I heard from Kole has become a personal mantra for me as graduation approaches: “Don’t let the cat…in the blender.”

The message to me is clear. Some things in life are best avoided.

If it’s a risky decision or a situation that is bound to lead to chaos, sometimes the best course of action is simply to leave certain things alone. High school, with all its drama and pitfalls, taught me that it is often better to walk away than get tangled in situations that would “blend the cat.”

One piece of advice, in particular, has stuck with me. “When it rains…don’t cry,” the quiet student, Blake, said. 

It sounds like something a parent would tell a disappointed child, but in truth, it’s an outlook on life that applies to everyone. We all face difficult times, but it’s how we choose to deal with them that defines who we are.

Crying in the rain will not stop the storm, but finding shelter, or better yet, dancing in it, will make the journey much more bearable. It’s a reminder that life is about resilience, about moving forward even when the weather is not ideal. 

Perhaps the most whimsical piece of advice came from Kamylah, who was describing the magic of her favorite stories; “Time flies when…it turns into a fairy.”

While this may sound like pure fantasy, the sentiment behind it couldn’t be more fitting in this stage of our lives. Time has a way of slipping through our fingers when we are not paying attention.

The moments we least expect, the ones that seem insignificant at the time, often turn out to be the ones that shape us. Looking back, I cannot believe that it has been a full decade since I was in these students’ shoes, writing answers to sentence starters in Ms. Lieu’s still vaguely donut-themed room. 

The years of school at Dallastown have passed in a blink of an eye, but the memories I’ve made will remain with me forever. Sometimes, time really does seem to have wings. 

The lessons of these young philosophers have taught me the most valuable lessons of all. No matter how old we get, how accomplished, or educated, it’s the curious heart of a child that reminds us of the beauty in every new beginning. 

What is most beautiful about these tiny voices of wisdom is that they aren’t just memories from a bygone year. They are still inside each one of us, quietly offering strength, resilience, and a reminder to pause and listen. 

As we connect with these simple truths, even in moments of doubt and uncertainty, we become stronger and more courageous. The world may change for us, but the wisdom of childhood stays with us to guide into what’s to come.