for some reason, as i was trying to fall asleep last night, aaron popped into my head. i haven't seen aaron in 10 years, when he was 9. he is close to 20 by now.
aaron was one of the hardest kids i can remember having in my 10 years of teaching. he was moody, selfish, rude, and...well...prickly. he didn't make friends and i honestly thought there were times when aaron hated me. over time, i was able to find a tiny crack in his hard exterior and found a way to worm my way into his heart. a little. i think.
while i haven't seen him since he was in 4th grade in 2004, he still belongs to me. if i saw aaron walking down the street and saw his beautiful sweet face, i would know it in an instant. i would hug him and say, "you smell like beef and cheese," one of our favorite lines we laughed about from the movie, "elf." one of the rare times he would crack and share with me his beautiful smile.
a gift.
i don't know if kids know this, but after leaving my classroom, i still consider them to be my kids. the bonds i form with my students (generally) run deep. it's possible that the most challenging kids typically grow the deepest roots into my heart. i truly care for them while they are with me and the years beyond.
i don't know where aaron is today. i hope he is doing well. i hope he has found his way and is experiencing happiness. i hope one day to see his sweet face and give him a huge hug, hoping to crack him for one last smile.
i want that for all of my kids. over my last 10 years, i have worked with over 200 other amazing, brilliant and beautiful kids. i think about each of them every once in awhile. i often wonder if they think of me. more often, i wonder if they know how much i still care for them.
