An assembly broke the news. Well, kind of. They saw me get flowers.
"Why did you get the flowers?"
"Are you retarding?"
"That means I won't be teaching anymore."
"I've taught for a long time."
"But what will we do tomorrow? Who will teach us?" one says, tears filling his eyes, lips quivering, scooting up closer to my chair.
"Oh, I'll be here tomorrow. I'll stay until the end of first grade."
"Will you ever come back?"
"Oh, probably. I might want to come in and have someone read to me."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'd like to write some books. You know how I like to write."
"Oh, yeah!" they respond, nodding their heads.
"But who will teach me?" my heart whispers, tears filling my eyes.