How does a kid know that he loves me when he doesn't know his name? He has so many barriers that keep him from understanding what is going on his life. He doesn't know how old he is, or where he lives. He doesn't know to take care of himself. He doesn't know why everyone is telling him to "line up" or "sit down" or "wash your hands". So how does he know me, and know that he loves me?
Today, in the middle of a science lesson (involving the usual "glue the bee on the flower" activity that most of my students have no clue what the meaning is) I walked around the classroom to see how my students were progressing on the activity.
One kid was eating the paper.
One kid was compulsively cutting the paper into small triangles.
One kid was rubbing glue on his cheeks.
One kid had thrown away the activity altogether.
And, one kid looked up at me with his horribly crooked teeth and said, "I love you Mrs. Orr" with his cute little Somolian accent.
I kneeled down and gave him such a tight hug. He patted my back while I hugged him. I taught him that.
His birthday is coming up and he will be 11. Just a hair over 3 feet tall. He doesn't know how to count, say his letter sounds, or draw shapes. But he knows he can love and can give a strong hug. And that makes me melt. Sometimes I wish I could be more like these kids.
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