Perspective

Once a week, usually on Fridays, I head over to a grade school a few blocks away from workplace and read to a little girl for an hour while she eats her lunch.  We sit together in the library on the second floor of her school and read aloud from our favorite books.  She and I pause often, happily  discussing the latest plot twists in our current read or, if she's finished eating,  we take turns reading each page out loud.

This is the second year I've been reading with the same student, now a third grader.  I suppose I shouldn't be biased, but I must let you in on a little secret before we go any further.  She is my favorite in all the land.  There are weeks when I've been slammed non-stop at work, or have back to back to back meetings, and I'll think to myself..."oh, I don't really have time to get over to the school this week, maybe I should cancel."  Then, in the same instant when that thought crosses my mind, I stop, take a deep breath, and remind myself that the spreadsheets (my God, the spreadsheets) and the emails and all the rest of it will always be there.  A petite little blonde girl, one who gives me a hug every time she sees me, who anxiously awaits our meetings and learning about the next set of adventures in our favorite series, Ivy & Bean, will not be.  And so, I log off the computer, I block out of the hour on my office calendar and I go.  And I am always, always glad that I did.  For it is always, always the right decision.  It may sound like I'm exaggerating but I will tell you in all sincerity that my hour with this little lady is almost always the highlight of my week.

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We're not allowed to give the students' gifts, but they do encourage us to bring in cards for birthdays or special holidays.  In December, at our last reading of 2012, I brought in a Christmas card.  Truth be told, that morning before I left for work, I grabbed one of the last in my stack of mismatched left-overs almost as an after thought.  I sort of pictured the thing tossed into the bottom of a book bag, never to be seen again.

Ahem.

Before she even opened this years card, my little student's eyes lit up the minute she saw my pull the white envelope out of my purse.  "Remember last year," she asked, "how you gave me that silver card with the nine snowmen on the front?"

I winced just a tiny bit. "Um, yes, I do."

"Well, I keep it on my nightstand and I look at it every day.  It's my favorite card."

"Oh, um, I'm so glad.  Um, this card might, um, look a little similar this year."  (Of ALL the cards to grab, I had grabbed the exact same design as the year prior.  So much for that book bag theory.)

Without missing a beat, this little girl kept on grinning, opening her new card.

"I'm sorry it's the same card," I quickly explained.  "I didn't remember what design I gave you last year..."

"Oh, it's okay," she said, shrugging.  "I love snowmen.  Now, I just get to have two cards on my nightstand!"

 ******

In February, I had the lucky break of reading to her on Valentine's Day.  Do you remember Valentine's Day in 3rd grade?  Until I saw her, I'd forgotten just how incredibly exciting something like a classroom party can be.  My little student was over the moon that afternoon - wearing her pink shirt and pink headband, grinning from ear to ear as she told me about the treats ( a pink leopard print - her favorite pattern is leopard - clutch) she got that morning from her mother, and then about the school party they were having at the end of the day.  (She'd brought in Hawaiian Punch to share with the class in case you were wondering.)  

Even though I was probably breaking some rule I didn't know about, I brought her a Valentine lollipop and of course, a card.  (No snowmen this time.)  The card was sweet - on the front was a sketch of a man hugging a tree and the tree dropping a little red heart down towards the man - and the inside read something about how "I just thought I'd drop you this valentine."  After she read the card, she looked up at me.  Without missing a beat, she exclaimed: "This is just like one of our favorite books, The Giving Tree! Remember how we read it earlier this year?  And how you said it always made you happy and sad at the same time?"

Oh, oh, little girl.  What a gift you have just given me without even knowing it. 

And then, as sat there in my tiny little person library chair, welling up a bit as I watched her admire her card, she reached into her book bag.  "I brought you a Valentine too" she told me, ceremoniously handing over a mini Crunch bar and a homemade book mark, which read: "Dear Kelli.  How about a book mark?"  

She went on to explain that she'd written the question on the actual bookmark because I was always using scraps of paper to hold our place when we stopped the story each week, and how I always said "It's too bad we don't have a book mark."  So, naturally.  How about that book mark? 

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Last week, after we'd rehashed the latest escapades in our story and reminded ourselves about where we last left our heroines, I opened the book (thank you, book mark!) while she pulled out her lunch box.  She unzipped her purple leopard print bag, and smiling, handed me a juice box and a snack bag of Cheetos.  She went on about her business, pulling out her own juice box and lunch.  "Is this for me?" I asked.  She smiled.  "Well, you always say that you're hungry when you're here so last night I asked my Mom to pack extra for you."

This is me melting.  Melting of pure, utter, sweetness and innocence.  Because she is right, I do often exclaim that I'm hungry -- of course it's mainly because I'm trying to encourage her to eat, for she is a teeny tiny thing.  I'll make comments about her lunch as we sit down, saying something like "ooh, that looks good! I haven't eaten yet!"  or, once, when we read a story about Frances and her bread and jam, I remarked that the story was making me SO hungry and I couldn't wait to eat!"

Of course, I thanked her profusely for my snack and carried it back to my office - where it did come in handy later that afternoon, in fact.  Sometimes a bowl of soup just isn't enough, you know?  Beyond this sweetheart of a little girl packing a snack for me, what I love the most about this tale, is picturing her telling her Mom about "this lady who reads to me, who is always, always hungry...every single time we meet...I should probably bring her some food..."

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Part of the reason I started this blog, along with wanting a fun, creative outlet for my writing, was that I liked the idea of recording memories and events, both big and small that have occurred in my one little unique life.  And when I sat down to write tonight, I knew I wanted to note these moments with my student. For they are the tiny ones, the ones that happen so quietly, so quickly.  The ones that you will miss if you blink.  And aren't those always the ones that matter the most? 

So now, as I shut my computer for the evening, I know I have these memories with my lovely little student forever recorded. 

Although something tells me that I won't ever forget this little girl; that she has already left her stamp on my heart without even realizing it.