Meet Gracie: Finding Her Place at Grace

There is something wonderful about watching someone settle in.

You see it in a new student who starts to know where to put their backpack. In the child who, after a few weeks, stops looking for their grown-up at drop-off and starts looking for a friend instead. In the teacher who learns the rhythm of a classroom. In the moment when a new family begins to recognize familiar faces in the carpool line.

Little by little, a new place begins to feel like your place.

This fall, we have a new member of our community who is learning exactly that.

Meet Gracie.

Gracie is a Labrador puppy being raised through Guiding Eyes for the Blind, just as Poncho was. And while Poncho has now graduated and begun his life as a guide dog, Gracie is just getting started. I am fortunate to be co-raising her with a very dear friend, and together we are helping her learn the skills, habits, confidence, and self-control she will need for whatever comes next.

But right now, Gracie has a simpler job:

She needs to settle in.

She is learning the sounds of Grace—the doors opening in the morning, the bells, the chatter of children, the footsteps in the hallway, the surprising noises that come with a school full of curious and energetic Gryphons. She is learning where she can rest, where she can walk, how to greet people, when to pay attention, and when to simply be still.

And, perhaps most importantly, she is learning that this is a place where she belongs.

I have been thinking a lot about how much this process resembles what we ask of our children.

We don't expect a two-year-old to walk through the doors on the first day knowing exactly who they are or where they fit. We don't expect a new student to understand every Grace tradition or know every face. We give them time. We offer them relationships. We create spaces where they can watch, wonder, try, make mistakes, try again, and gradually become more comfortable being fully themselves.

We let them settle.

Because settling in is not about becoming smaller or quieter. It is about becoming grounded.

It is about knowing your surroundings well enough to be curious. Knowing the people around you well enough to trust them. Knowing yourself well enough to try something new.

And that is what Gracie is learning, too.

One day, Gracie may become a guide dog. If she does, she will have an extraordinary responsibility. She will need to be steady when the world around her is busy. She will need to make thoughtful decisions, resist distractions, and confidently lead another person through the world.

But she can't become that dog all at once.

First, she has to learn how to be Gracie.

She has to grow. She has to practice. She has to discover what is expected of her and, just as importantly, learn that she is safe enough to explore what is possible.

There is something beautiful about that reminder for all of us at Grace.

We talk often about helping children become confident, capable, purposeful people. But confidence doesn't appear out of nowhere. It grows from belonging. From being known. From having people who believe in you while you are still figuring things out.

So, for now, we are giving Gracie the gift of time.

Time to get to know Grace.
Time to find her rhythm.
Time to discover her people.
Time to become comfortable in her own skin.

And I suspect that, in the process, she will teach us something, too.

Welcome to Grace, Gracie.

We are so glad you are here.

And we can't wait to see who you become.