Recently I have read several writers' response to the question, what was the last book that made you cry?
Not a book. A journalist's report.
About a week ago, the students of Sandyhook Elementary went back to class. Their teachers refitted a middle school to the closest possible replica of their learning environment. Classroom decorations, artwork from their recent projects, all transposed to the new school.
That part of the article alone was enough to pull me in. The crisis point of my experience as a reader came when the journalist explained that, in addition to signs along the road, therapy dogs were enlisted to greet them when their school buses arrived at the new location. Therapy dogs. I envisioned their tails wagging, tongues licking, eyes bright with enthusiasm for children they were meeting for the first time. My throat clutched. It was the story for which I was yearning.
Someone told me recently, as I went back to work after the winter break ... you dote on your students. What the teachers at Sandyhook Elementary did for their students went beyond doting and celebration.
It was so much more than writing a letter of recommendation for colleges and universities unknown.
Out of all the letters I write for seniors, maybe one fifth tell me the outcome of their efforts and mine. Most of them just fade away.
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