Little W

On Friday mornings, my regularly-scheduled students are elsewhere. This affords me a bit too much free time, so I help out in one of the kindergarten classrooms. Two weeks ago was my first time there this year.

While the little people worked on their assignment, I walked around the room and helped the regular teacher check the students' progress. One got a particularly pleased look on his face when I praised his work.

"'W' gets a star on his chart when he does what he's been asked to," the teacher said in a meaningful tone and with a distinct look.

A star? Shouldn't they...all be doing what they're supposed to? I looked at him again and noted the hair that would be matted if it weren't so short, the semi-blank expression on his face, and the pierced ear (on a kindergarten boy). And I wanted to cry. Kindergarten, and it's likely this kid will struggle throughout his entire school career. He's lacking social graces and a bit of common sense, which will likely make him the object of scorn of his peers and an object of frustration for his teachers. He'll shut down and be belligerent.

I just wanted to take him in and give him the one-on-one that will help him grow to be healthier.

We didn't have school last Friday, so today was my second day with the kindergarteners. The class was gathered around their teacher and went over the letters they'd learned up to this point. ("U" was today's letter.) When they were dismissed to return to their seats, "W" changed direction and made a beeline for me. He buried his head in my chest and wrapped his arms around my legs.

"I remember you!" he cried with delight.

"I remember you, too, child," I thought with the same amount of delight. To be loved...

God, thank You for this "in" with this child. Please help me make a difference in his life. And if it's not me, please provide someone else to nurture him. Oh, God...