Something to Remember

Dear Little One,

You were the best part of my day.  You finished your work and  sprawled on the rug with your notebook.  Last year’s Easter dress ballooned around you and one of your silver glittery ballet shoes slipped off your foot as you moved onto your stomach to write.  I watched you write, sweet little princess.  Your eyebrows gathered together, your mouth sounded out each word carefully.  Other kids plopped on the rug with their notebooks, but you didn’t even notice.  I wondered what it was that had captured your attention so dramatically.  As I moved around the room, my eyes kept flicking over to you.  You never took your gaze off the page.

It came time for Author’s Chair.  To my delight you sat at the rug, notebook in the crook of your lap, and raised your hand.  Anticipation tingled in my veins.  You began to read about missing your granddad.  You wrote about wishing he was still here with you.  My heart lurched because I know what it means to miss someone with that kind of urgency.  Oh, yes, I know it like I know the flecks of gold in Terry’s eyes, like I know the sound of my mother’s voice.

Your last line cut deep.  “I wish I had something to remember him by.”  You blinked back tears and I was blinking them back right along with you.  I think we all were. When you finished, a flurry of hands shot up, not to be the next reader, but to share about losing a loved one.  You gave us that moment and for that I’m grateful.

I know you wish you had something to remember your Granddad by, something to hold in your hands or rub against your cheek.  I wish I could give that something to you.  But, Little One, let me just say that you created something to remember him by today.


Mrs. McCauley

3 thoughts on “Something to Remember

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.