School’s out for the day. I’ve taken a deep breath and am looking for a change of clothes. As I walk down the hallway of our “not perfect but forgiven” school, I hear notes floating in the air sent from one of our three pianos. The pianist is in grammar school but practices enough that the song is most pleasurable. I peek into the open rooms. One room holds a mother-teacher reviewing a math lesson with her daughter. A young boy clad in khakis and plaid tie walks down the hallway with a backpack being carried home. Someone has some extra studying tonight! The last room I pass is our library. Books line the wall and a table is placed in the center of the room. Around the table sit several of our students. There is a tenth grader looking good in his blazer and white button-up visiting with a fourth grade girl and sixth grade boy, who isn’t yet required to wear a blazer. No one made him converse with these fellow students. Two seventh grade girls have their noses stuck in a tome, and a second grader quietly wanders around trying to decide which book would best fit his reading appetite. From this room I hear notes of love and harmony floating in the air, and that sounds better than any notes a piano could make! Our school smells of Jesus.