Wild for You

I’m a second-grade teacher in a small town, and my student just showed up to the Mother’s Day event with her uncle.

He was so tall he barely fit through the door.

All the other kids had their moms to help, she was the only that didn’t.

The glue stuck to his fingers, and every time something tore he whispered “sorry” like it might break her heart.

So I knelt beside her desk and said softly, “Hey, Sarah, would you like me to help you? I’d really love to.”

She looked up at her uncle like she was asking permission, he nodded and smiled for the first time.

The next morning, there was a jar of wild blackberries and a smooth river stone on my porch.

The day after that, a jar of honey with a note.

One morning, I finally caught him and his hands were full of wildflowers.

He looked at me and growled,

“You know you made her feel like she finally had a mother that day?”