Goodbye….

Mr. Paul had been giving Jasmine a world of encouragement and she absorbed each word, savored every last detail of someone paying attention in such a caring way.

This day Jasmine felt inclined to reach up, she stretched out the way a kitten does when it enjoys the love that is feeding its wild young body. She loved these times so much, the way Mr. Paul gave her such positive reinforcement, she was tickled by each word of utterance.

On this Friday morning Mr. Paul walked in with his upper lip buried between both levels of teeth. Bottom teeth were reaching forward as if to nibble over the skin that fed his lip into this show of anxious display. He was struggling, it was apparent to the young group of students and didn’t know how to assuage his discomfort.

“What is it?” The ‘it’ lifted in this question, the higher pitch made the question more pertinent.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Paul?”, Jasmine immediately inquired before he could even near the whiteboard that he ritually wrote on as the tiny class of what was going to be three students finished shuffling in. Jasmine wondered what bothered him on this day, with concern she repeated again, “what?……….. what is it?”

“Jazz… I … I need to share something…. with our whole class.”

Mr. Paul now looked out & caught a sense of how students were feeling. Feet spread as if ready to hop on a horse, his posture stiffened.

He examined their positions and stood tall with hands clasped behind his back.

“Let me just jump right into it…. …. Ummm….

….

-I want you all to know that I really care about you…. …. …

~You all know that, of course…”.

Waiting for a nod, he paused.

Then, he looked at each student …. Jasmine had the longest expression & although she could hardly hold her head up, she did.

She looked at him. “….

…Uhhhh, what is it?” She blurted into the room with an unrelenting urgency. Her tone sparked a response.

“Well…”……. “Ok…”

“I am struggling to get this out …”. Feeling as if his feet were stuck, he propelled himself forward and shared, “I took a new teaching job”.

All eyes sunk to the floor. Mr. Paul stopped. The room grew quiet & now…. He let his eyes dart left. Holding this averted glance.

“Yeah, I’m going to be moving. …”. He felt a punch straight into his chest and then his gut ate up the impactful blow.

Breaking what became a cloud of discomfort—

“Goodness….” …. “Does anyone want to say anything? …

~or shall we take some quiet time for writing now?..”

“Awkward, terrible….

Ohhhhh… and really, really …. Hard to think about leaving ….

Also…. I am so proud of each of you.

I’m so amazed by the strength your spirits. This…. This pains me to share…”.

He quieted for a moment, then he spoke out, “listen… listen…. You all change my perspective on the world.. the way you move through challenges, I don’t know anyone anywhere who wakes up and faces this world with as much courage as you all.”

By now a moisture, a formed tear,

a dampness that often swelled around the windows of the school area was completely encircling the eyes of each student in the room. They’d grown almost unbearably tired, not immune to adults leaving them. This was not what they hoped to hear from Mr. Paul.

They hated this … hated hearing it & wanted to never hear those words for as long as they breathed.

“Ohhhh…. …”

A sigh of dread was a synchronous chorus that passed through the room, collapsing on the heavy shoulders of Mr. Paul.

It resounded, the thick emotion was shared by each of the students.

“Well…. Mr. Paul, congratulations, you’re a great teacher.”

Jasmine finished saying this just prior to and in the motion of collapsing on her desk.