For His Teacher

Dear Teacher,

Today, on the first day of a new school year, we send you my very best. I have bathed him and dressed him in a new shirt. He carries a backpack full of supplies and a lunch box with (mainly) healthy food.   He's had breakfast and a bit of Focalin.  He's so excited to be in your class. We don't know you well, but he loves you already, because he's seven and you're his teacher. Second graders nearly always love their teachers.

He's a miracle, you see.  How can two cells come together to create the magic of this boy?  He loves Lego, comic books, and science. He likes to learn by watching, touching, and doing. Sometimes he's loud and sometimes he's quiet. Sometimes he's goofy and sometimes he's serious.  He will share nearly anything with anyone. He also doesn't lie. He's honest to a fault.

We've been working on the rough edges of our boy. He's less likely to put his hands on others, although he does love to wrestle other boys like a little pack of puppies. He has a strict sense of fairness and a need for routine, but we know you are good at that. We asked for a teacher just like you.

There will be great times with our boy in your class. You'll laugh or shake your head in wonder. You'll look at him and think, "What an amazing child!"  We know, because we do that ourselves. There may also be tough times with our boy in your class. You'll want to yell or be mean or pull your hair out. You'll look at him and think, "What a difficult child!"  We know, because we do that ourselves.

We send you our very best. We've put all our love, whishes, hopes, and dreams in there. Please, please like him. There's a fragile little soul in there, waiting to learn and grow.  Show him some of your own miracles, things only a beloved teacher can give a student. He's the best of us, no matter how grand or humble our home, how fast or slow our cars, how big or small our pay checks. Take our gift, and love him well.

Thanks, His Mother