There is a bit of me that thinks to myself “Oh Linda, you’re too old for this – how are you EVER going to be taken seriously by a ten-year-old? How are you EVER going to fit in to a world that’s as alien to you as if you’d been scooped up and dropped down on Mars?”

Then something happens that makes me think they don’t all think of me as a dried up old wreck (so let’s face it that means they’ve got more faith in me than I’ve got in myself). Today I helped a child who’d only ever been in a swimming pool twice before EVER, to build her confidence in water. She was terrified when she got into the water but by the time she got out she had a smile as broad as a broad thing and was loving being in the water. I didn’t really DO anything, just waited patiently as she laboured back and forth across the pool, held up by floats, giving her encouragement and praise. By the end, she felt confident enough to jump in unaided. It was a complete triumph.

Yesterday, when I taught my very first lesson the children cheered when they realised I was going to teach them. I was thrilled. They worked their hearts out and produced a lovely body of work that’s now on display in the corridor so the whole school can see it.

I’m terrified of failure at this, as I’ve said before, but I am so desperate to succeed that I don’t know what I’ll do if I fail. For the first time in my adult life, I feel as though I’m doing something that matters…something that will make a difference. It feels really good. Maybe there is life in this wreck yet?