Every Dinosaur Has His Last Day

Friday afternoon at 2:50pm. You can imagine that my classroom is a little crazy as I'm cleaning up from my Friday drawing club, where I showed a mixed class of 2nd-4th graders how to draw this dinosaur. Kids are hustling about, stacking chairs, and shoving folders and books into backpacks. Then my phone rings. I found out that one of my students was moving, today was his last day, and that I needed to get his supplies ready. I had knew this student would be moving but he had told me earlier in the week that it wouldn't be until next Friday. I had to sadly go over and whisper the news to him. Oh my gosh. So heartbreaking. He told me it was okay for me to tell the class that it was his last day. So there, in the last 5 minutes before 3:00, I had to tell me kids. He cried, my kids cried, and I'll admit that I was doing my best to hold back the tears.

The ironic thing is that to most people, even some teachers, it wouldn't be a sad moment. This is a student who is challenging and who I had to frequently hold his hand as my class walked down the hallway. But beneath the outer layer, this little kid had a big heart. When he would apologize to me, I knew he meant it. He knew who the "good" kids in class were and admired them, even if that admiration didn't quite show in a normal way.

As a teacher, I have discovered that the kids that are the hardest, the most challenging, are the ones that I keep closest in my heart. Even after each year passes, those are the kids- somehow always boys- that I continue to pray for even after they've moved to the next grade, or in most cases, have moved away. So I'll keep praying for my little friend and I hope that he makes good friends at his new school.