Sign up now for a
Free Email Account &
your own Online
Writing Portfolio!
Username:
Password:  
Reviewer Items

More Reviewers  

Read a Newbie
Badges
Generosity
Presented To:
Gabriella

Testimonials
Tell a Friend
Know someone who'd
like this page?

Email Address:

Optional Comment:

Who's Online?
Members: 274    
Guests: 5302    

   
Total Online Now: 5576    
Writing.Com Time

Wednesday
May 30, 2012
7:31am EDT


  >> Static Item >> Essay >> Other >> ID #1637850  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
My Heart Looks Like a Schoolhouse
"Mimi, what does your heart look like?" , an essay
Rated:
E
by
Avg Rating: (1)
Published by Michelle Estes
Published in Missouri Teachers Write Literary Magazine,2007, page 96
MATE is an affiliate of the National Council of Teachers of English



My Heart Looks Like a Schoolhouse

When my grandson asked me what my heart looked like, I was stymied for a minute.  Teachers are never without words for very long, however.  Here is what I told him:  If you could see my heart, you would see a schoolhouse.  Come inside and look around.

That's Brad hanging out the window.  He's a handful.  His parents divorced and he's been left to raise himself.  Even thought we clash everyday, Brad knows I love him.  I tell him often because he needs it.

Abigail's holding the door open for us.  She had terrible attendance for grades nine through eleven.  Last year as a senior, she came into my writing class and a fire caught hold in her heart.  She's a writer now, rarely misses a day, and will graduate soon.  Writing gives her stature in our school.

That's Brandon reading in the corner.  He's just an old country boy who showed up in novels class and announced that I couldn't make him read!  I sure didn't get him reading, but Hank the Cowdog did it.  Brandon's a reader now, full time.  He regularly asks the librarian to order books for him that are not in the library.

And, there's Hope up there writing on my board.  I can't keep that kid off my board.  I'm always telling her quite sternly that I don't want my board written on.  Everyday, I find she's left me a note that is always the same:  I love you, Mrs. E.

That's Mrs. Smith up at my desk.  We visited last week and was she ever mad at me because her son was failing.  She screamed, cried, hollered, and called me a few names. That was alright.  I understood and felt her pain.  I helped her with a plan to undergird Oren at home.  I gave her a hug when she left and told her we could do anything together.  Today, she's brought me flowers.

Oh, there's Liza sharpening her pencil.  We stay on Tuesday afternoon to work together on different kinds of projects.  Liza just needs extra attention.

It may sound like my students need me, but truth be told, I am the one who needs them.  Together we make an awesome team.  And, that is why my heart resides in the schoolhouse.
© Copyright 2010 Rixfarmgirl (UN: rixfarmgirl at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Rixfarmgirl has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log In To Leave Feedback
Username:
Password:
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!

All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!