How do you tell someone how much they mean,

that they said the exact thing

that your heart needed to hear?

And they didn't even know.

And their smile lights up your world

Because you know

It's their heart's reflection.

And you know without a shadow of a doubt

That they'll be there...

Really be there,

Even when you think you don't deserve it

When you feel there's nothing about you

That would draw someone so wonderful into your life

So you just hold on tightly

And know

That you don't need to understand

To be thankful.

So you are.

He looked up at me, his white eyes the size of golf balls; a grin a mile wide.  He probably weighed as much as two flour sacks but carried around a bundle of energy the size of North America. 

I still remember his laugh.  And the way he signed his name all swirly and large, and always dark because he pushed down on his pencil as if etching his name into a rock, begging to be remembered.

His name was Charles Strong, and he was.  Strong despite the fact that he didn't have one of his lungs.  But he still ran.  As fast as he could, and as often with his head bobbing and grin growing wider with each stomp.  Strong despite the fact that he spent more days in a hospital bed than I'd ever spent doing anything.  He wanted to be a professional basketball player, and his mama was right; he could've done anything he put his mind to.

As we pulled up to the hospital, bus laden with eager faces, I wondered if this would be a mistake.  But our class superstar was inside, and we wanted to see him.  Trudging up the stairs, silent faces stared as monitors beeped and nurses rushed about; speaking quickly in hushed tones.  I never would have believed a pack of fifth-graders could be so silent.

We approached room 246, and I slipped inside.  In an instant familiar big eyes met mine, and the grin that could melt an iceberg enveloped his tiny face.  Curly hair stuck straight out from his head like rays on the sun.  He cracked a joke and laughed his strong laugh, and I smiled.

The class slowly tiptoed in, heralding "get well" cards and ballons.  Charles beamed and slowly the chatter began.  We listened to stories and gave him high-fives.  We held on to every moment, trying to soak him in.  Etch him into our memory so we could take him with us.

I will never understand what it is like to be a nine-year old boy riddled with a disease called Sickle Cell Anemia, fighting for my life everyday.  But I am learning, from people just like Charles, that what you focus on will change what you see.  And when you recognize the opportunity for joy in every situation, that is exactly what you will find. 

            Sammy stood proud in front of Mrs. Boyer, tears brimming in her eyes, arms trembling.  Her orange-ish blond hair matted like always, encircling her too-skinny face decorated with freckles.  Her faded green sweater draped loosely on her small frame.  The same sweater she wore every day.

            Somehow she always made it to school, but to tell you the truth, I’m not sure how.  In the cold Montana winter, she lived from one parking lot to the next out of the car she shared with her mom and older brother.  Family that seemed non-existent to those of us who knew Sammy.

            “I want you to have this,” she said in a voice twice as large as her tiny body.   Clasped tightly in her hands was the arm of a tattered teddy bear whose button eyes were hanging by threads, fur matted down and worn completely off in some places.  The only possession that she had.

            She thrust out her hand to Mrs. Boyer, looked longingly one last time at the bear, and smiled through tear-brimmed eyes. 

            “Merry Christmas,” she whispered, and walked away, a smile forming on the face marked by a single tear. 



Live

for the future

Love

in the moment

Care

for those you love

with a passion so deep

they will

never

question your heart

Give

like you'll never run out

Share

all of your heart

even the pieces

tucked way in the back

Dare

to open up

be vulnerable

to expose the true you

to dig into the truth of others

Spend

your time and energy

to make someone's day

because that's what makes

your heart

smile.

McKenzie stood up on the last day of school, and in her orderly way announced to the class that they were to line up...and they listened!  I stood there looking questioningly at the student who was our Stargirl.  The girl who would fight to the bitter end for someone crying.  The girl who used duct tape for everything, and the beautiful girl who has a heart of gold. 

I didn't know what was happening, so I just stood there, unmoving.  The hushed mass of moving students settled into a line better than I had ever seen.  As she took my hand she whispered, "Mrs. Pfaff, we're going out the back door.  Close your eyes and trust me."

And I did.

We worked our way outside as I stumbled over bumps, clasping tightly to the little hand belonging to the girl I loved so much.

I strained to use my heightened sense of sound to determine what on earth could be happening on my last day at that school, holding on to each moment with those kids who had become such a part of my life in the few years that I had been with them.

"One, two, three!  Open your eyes!"

I quickly glanced around and what I saw is etched in my mind forever.  There, surrounding a table adorned with gifts, were the greatest gifts I had been given...a sea of my students, past and present.  Some smiling, some fighting tears, some watching eagerly to see my reaction.  I saw faces that I had cried over, faces that had made me laugh until my sides hurt, faces that had lit up because they had finally "got it".

And I cried.

There in the midst of decorated trees, cakes and gifts I realized what I make. 

I make memories with children who turn moments into smile lines etched in my heart.