There are times, in the journey of parenting, when the clock and the calendar seem to warp and do funny things.

For example, the year that my twins were two seemed to last at least five years.

But now that they are 11, I’m being well compensated for each and every moment in their childhood that went by in a crawl.

This year has been a sprint, a mad dash, with everything spinning past me in a whirl as my adorable little boy and girl stand poised on a precipice, ready to leap through the looking glass of adolescence, as I silently beg the universe for one more day — no, one more hour — when they will still be willing to hold my hand as we all cross the street together.

Can it really be true that they only have a few more days left as students at Chautauqua Elementary School?

It’s time now, I guess, to look back for a moment, before we all hop on the freight train of what is coming next.

And while it hasn’t all been roses, it’s still true that Norman Rockwell could have painted many of my memories of my kids’ Chautauqua years — they are that sweet and picture perfect.

Chautauqua is a remarkable school. It is clean, bright and well-equipped, with a bustling library, a beautiful playground, and art and music rooms that must be the envy of many private schools.

It is also filled with educators and other professionals who genuinely love children and work overtime to make sure they are not only learning the basics, but also growing into the kind of people who will go on to make the world a better place.

Some of my favorite people at Chautauqua, though, might not be there next year, which makes me sad for all the parents and children who are just starting their time at the school.

One of them is Andy James, a creative young teacher who has received a “reduction in force” notice because of the funding crisis in our school district.

This year, Andy was Chau-tauqua’s music teacher, and before that, he was a classroom teacher. In both positions, Andy proved himself to be an innovative teacher, capable of thinking outside the box to find new ways to excite children about learning.

Joleen McCauley, a young kindergarten teacher who has earned high praise from parents and devotion from her tiny students, has also seen her job placed on the chopping block.

It’s such a shame that the jobs of such talented young teachers are on the line, not only on Vashon but all across the nation, as states deal with the fiscal fallout of the greatest economic crisis since the Great Depression.

Who will be the next generation of educators, if people like Andy and Joleen are forced out of the profession?

On the opposite end of the spectrum, another person who received a pink slip at Chautauqua is Diane Brenno, a 73-year-old grandmother and child advocate.

Diane’s job description is technically that of a “campus monitor” — another term for a playground attendant.

That doesn’t describe what she does at all.

For the past eight years, Diane has run Chautauqua’s Lunch Club — a crafts and games-filled classroom that serves as an alternative for kids who don’t want to go outside for recess.

But it’s more than a place to stay out of the rain for some of the children who flock there.

Many of the students Diane works with have developmental disabilities, and truly need to escape the social pressures of the playground. Lunch Club is an oasis for these children, largely because of Diane’s deep sensitivity and compassion for all children, regardless of their labels or differences.

Only an elder, someone like Diane, could fill this particular need at Chautauqua. I can’t imagine the place without her.

The budget cuts go beyond Chautauqua, of course, and actually impact McMurray Middle School and Vashon High School most deeply.

Will my children and other Island kids continue, in the coming years, to receive the same kind of excellent education they have been blessed with at Chautauqua?

I don’t know. At this point, it’s up to the community. Will we pull together to save our schools?

I guess it all depends on what kind of memories we want to have, when we look back on our children’s lives in the years to come.

The late, great Fred Rogers, American educator, Presbyterian minister, songwriter and television host, once said, “Anyone who does anything to help a child in his life is a hero to me.”

It’s time for us to be the heroes.

— Elizabeth Shepherd is The Beachcomber’s arts editor.