You would have been in my class. We both knew it.
I left before you arrived. I missed out. I know.
I remember you in Kindergarten, those big brown eyes of yours. The way they took in everything and missed nothing.
I remember when you came to my class as a little buddy. Your partner sat back and smiled when you took over. You read like a reader does. Part words. Part expression. Part interaction. All proud.
You would look up from the page with those big brown eyes and we would all be right there with you.
I admired your tenacity. Your striped socks. Your big presence in such a little body.
We were waiting for each other. I know.
You made me cards.
I posted them up.
You visited me.
I put aside special books.
You smiled big before sitting down to read them.
I stopped and listened to all of your stories.
You had a lot.
“I am going to be in your class,” you told me all last year. You would have been. I know.
I was waiting for you.
Before I had to go.
Before I missed out on teaching you.
I am participating in the Slice of Life challenge to write and publish a post every day in March.
Slice of Life is hosted by Two Writing Teachers. I thank them for the community they provide. Read more slices here.