Catching Tears And Carrying Things That Don’t Belong To Us

Beautiful words by Jennifer Watson

Jennifer Renee Watson

friendship:black & white

She was still small enough to carry, in first grade, and dealing with something her little mind couldn’t process, or even verbalize. Her stress took on a different shape, one that looked like tears, a tummy ache, and even tired legs.

My daughter’s young teacher lovingly scooped her up and carried her to the nurse. This teacher wasn’t a mother yet but she stood in the gap for me to do what most teachers do, they bend their back and met a need because of love, because this is what they’ve always wanted to do even though they were smart enough to be a doctor, or run a small country. They traded a big paycheck for little eyes that light up when they hear the smallest praise and the smell of “sweaty kid” which smells kind of like a dog after a hard hour of play and picking wildflowers in…

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