a breakfast serial

One bite-sized story every morning to uplift, motivate, or provoke thought.

shelldyn the second-grader

< by Jill >

A point came in my teaching career when, by necessity, I had to leave my school.

For six months, I had nurtured the minds and spirits of 28 little ones. I knew that Jordyn had a crush on Byron, and that every day, Dalaina traded her Oreos for the slice of cheese in Steven’s sandwich. I knew that the twins needed verbal affirmation, but that Shelldyn needed hugs. The kind of hugs you sink into. I knew them inside out, and loved them to pieces. Having to leave this beautiful world of humanity made me heartsick.

My last day was February 11, 2011, and we were having a Valentine’s day party. Nobody asked or expected me to be strong, and so I wasn’t. I cried the whole time. Chocolates were given and cards passed around, and finally, after nearly everyone had packed up and filed out, I felt a tug on my hand. It was Shelldyn.

His chubby little face was red and striped with tears. “Can I talk to you?” he asked. I whispered “Sure,” crouching down to his eye level.

He handed me a sheet of paper, and I read:

And then we shared one last hug — the kind of hug you sink into.


  on thehomefrontandbeyond wrote @

wow what a beautiful note

  Jorie wrote @

Oh, Jill! This is just so sweet.

  Mitra (@mitbot) wrote @

I think you are the most amazing human being. Thank you for writing about something that I know was so difficult for you. I love you!! (and Sheldon)

  Mitra (@mitbot) wrote @

PS I cried!

  laceyjbrown wrote @

So, so sweet. ❤

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