Memory Moments

On a typical day, we have many moments.  Some moments we commit to memory because they are that special.  Today, I’ve found myself thinking long and hard about one little moment, one little interaction with one of my first grade boys from a few years back. It’s a moment of many, but one I’ll dub as a “memory moment.”

R. was the new boy to our class and learning English as his second language.  He had a smile that could soften the hardest of days. A heart that stretched a mile and beyond.  He always grabbed my hand in the hallway for a little reassurance in the sea of kids going to and fro. On this particular day, R. was very talkative, eager to strike up a conversation as we made our way down the hall from our classroom to Art:

“Can I be your daughter?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a boy.”

“So?”
“A daughter is a girl. See Mrs. L.? She is her parents’ daughter because she’s a girl. I’m my parents’ son because I’m a boy.”  “You are your parents’ son.”
Big smile.  “I know.”

(LONG PAUSE)

“Can I be your daughter?”
“Ok. Yes you can. Now go to class.”

My memory moment.  

 

 

 

 

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