At dinner tonight, Peter sat next to Abby who was saving a seat for me. Instead of explaining the situation, she hit him in the face and yelled at him to move. When I got to the picnic blanket, the two oldest kids were waiting to tell on her. I said I thought she owed Peter an apology and she complied but was angry she had gotten in trouble. I told the cook that Abby probably shouldn’t have any kanom (snack - in this case dessert) because of what she’d done.
Abby heard me and asked, “Did you tell P. Dho that I can’t have any kanom?”
Instead of answering her question, I responded, “If someone hit you in the face, do you think they should get kanom?”
“No,” she replied, eyes downcast to her empty bowl.
“So you think this is a fair consequence?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said and went to her room and cried.
I left her alone to cool off and then went to find her. I told her I was sorry she hadn’t gotten any kanom.
“That’s ok; it was my conse. . . conse. . .”
“Consequence?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“What do you think you could do differently next time if a situation like that happens again?”
“I can just move somewhere else,” she said.
“I think that’s a great solution. I think that will work well for you next time Abby. I’m proud of you for thinking of that.”
"P. Lauren, I got to talk with you."
"Ok, let’s go sit down."
"No, in your room. I don’t want anyone to hear."
"Ok."
"About my life."
"What?"
"I got to talk with you about my life. Sometimes, when I’m sad, it feels like my heart just cry, cry, cry and then I feel like my eyes just want to cry, cry, cry," she said with a genuine look of distress.
"It’s good to cry when you feel sad. It helps you let some of the sadness out."
"Ok. P. Lauren, why you not open this?" she asked pulling out a tube of chap stick still in the box.
"I haven’t needed it yet. You can open it if you’d like."
"P. Lauren, I don’t want you to die," she said with her eyebrows bunched.
"Everybody dies Abby," I said trying to hide my smile, "but I probably won’t die for a long time. And if I do, we’ll see each other in heaven."
"But I want to see you for Christmas."
"I’d love to spend Christmas here. Maybe I will come another year."
"Why not this year?"
"Because my family wants to see me, and I want to see them."
"Ok," she said, pausing and giving that some thought. "Why you have to pay the bad man money?" she asked talking about my former boss.
"Because those were the terms of the contract. And I thought it was worth it to come back and stay with you guys longer."
"Ok. Why you have to leave in October? Why you have to find another university?"
"So I can study to be a teacher in a university."
"Oh. . . That will be a very hard job. But don't be cowardly. (A word I'd taught her earlier that day in class.) You are a good teacher," she said and rubbed my back the same way I do to her.
"Thank you Abby," I said as I hugged her.
"You’re welcome P. Lollipop. I got to go play now."
one of my favorite pictures of her
awww. i have no words.
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