Beauty in the day: he came and stood at the tall end of the desk, his eyes peeking at me. I asked him why he was there.
“Well, I was in line, and [one classmate] got in line in front of me….” he trailed off for just a moment, and looked distant – then resumed. “And [other classmate] got in line behind me.”
I waited for the terrible tragedy that must have befallen him at this point.
He blinked. Three times, I think.
That was it. The tragedy.
At least, that was all I was getting.
Beauty in the day: there were two of them, standing in front of my desk this morning before school started. One has been there many, many times, his daily mission to talk to me before line-up. The other is a new student, sweet and quiet; it’s unexpected that she wants to visit – but she does.
He started it out. “Ms. Nordstrom, I would like a fidget spinner. ” This is in reference (as my story will show) to a well-used fidget spinner that is on display in my window. It’s not there to torture the students – much.
“I don’t have fidget spinners here!”
He begged to differ, as he inclined his head with a tilt toward the one on display.
“Oh, that’s MY fidget spinner. But I don’t have any for students here.”
No matter – he was nonplussed. “I would like a USB.”
A USB? He wants a USB? I looked confused. He inclined his head again and tilted it toward my window, where there were 2 USB flash drives. One belonged to a parent who had left it behind the day before, and one was mine.
“That’s MY USB. I don’t have USB’s for students here.”
While he thought of his next request, shy girl pipes in. “I want that Griffin!” She pointed to the Eagle statue in my window.
“Well, that’s actually an Eagle. And it belongs to the school, so I can’t give it to you.”
As equally prepared to continue as the boy, she asked if I had any extra harmonicas. 🙄
There are no harmonicas in my window display.
I sent them to line up. 🤷🏻♀️
Beauty in the day: they came in together, each with their own ailment – one whose arm was hurting (for no apparent reason), the other who said she hurt her side a few days prior, and it was hurting.
“Oh! I never like it when that happens either! Have you tried the rubbing thing?”
They had not, but looked somewhat intrigued. I had to pull out a more engaging explanation than usual, because I know these littles.
“Oh, yes – let’s do try. You just take this hand, and then you gently rub, and sometimes pat, just like your mommy would do – does your mommy do that?”
Their mommies did not do that.
“Oh, well, how lucky! I’ll bet you never thought that you would get to go home and teach something to your mama, did you?”
Once again, intrigued.
“I think I can bend my arm better now!”
“My side feels better!”
“Wow! you two are just like little magical fairies!”
They left in agreement of that statement.
Beauty in the day: standing in line to see the Terra Cotta Warriors led to another wait in a darkened vestibule. Little 7-ish-year-old waiting near me with mom and dad was finding the wait to be – well – challenging. It became apparent that the little one was involved in dance or cheer, as she was doing steps and arm motions in her spot, much to the consternation of her mother, who would whisper to her to stop. Little One would stop, but the rhythm had a hold of her, and within seconds she would be back at it, only to be reminded by mom to stop again. This continued (to my delight), and gave credence to Maya Angelou’s quote: “Everything in the universe has a rhythm, everything dances.”
Beauty in the day: it’s the mom of the very young woman with a new (to her) pair of lungs. That mom has done some serious time in her life, and all her heartbeats have been for others.
Tammy Spading Wallace – you don’t need to donate your heart – it’s already been filling up so many people with love. ❤️
Beauty in the day: I made a new acquaintance at my local Safeway Starbucks. He made the first move, and kept the conversation going with such ease that I couldn’t stop smiling.
He’s gonna make quite a splash in Kindergarten this year.
Beauty in the day: his mom came in to give us some information. I wrote it all down and then she said, “oh, and one more thing…” she started to laugh, corrected herself, then began again. “He told me…” she started to laugh again. This continued for a bit until she was able to continue.
“He doesn’t normally buy school lunch, so this has been new for him, and yesterday there were hot dogs. I asked him how he liked it. He told me he didn’t eat it. I asked why, and he said, ‘They only have mustard there.’ I told him I was pretty sure there would be ketchup too, but he confirmed with, ‘No ketchup at school mom. They can’t afford it.”
Mom broke up laughing again.