The third grade classroom was a beehive of activity, as children waited for their teacher, Miss Carruthers, to enter the room. Some children sat talking quietly and others goofed around waiting until the last possible moment to sit down.
Miss Carruthers stood in the doorway, surveying the class when she spotted a note on the floor. A day didn’t go by without a crisis of some sort over lost papers, barrettes, pencil crayons or snacks. Finding it first made life easier later on.
“Jenny, is everything OK?” Miss Carruthers gently asked.
Jenny’s eyes welled up with tears as she looked at Miss Carruthers, “my mom is mad at me.”
Miss Carruthers smiled softly at the sweet, brown-haired child and quietly said, “You dropped this, I think you should read it.”
Jenny reached out, took the note and slowly opened it. Reading it to herself, tears rolling down her face, she turned to Miss Carruthers.
“My mom is sorry, and she loves me!” Jenny smiled as she wiped her tears.
Miss Carruthers patted Jenny on the shoulder and walked to the front of the class.
Another day has begun.