“Hello Ms. Juliette,” beamed from the lady whose eyes shone above the mask.
It was the end of a school day here, in the scorching heat after the long flight down the stairs, from our third floor tower.
Our route down the narrow stairwell at the side of the building, cleverly earmarked for second and fourth grade students, to keep us socially distanced.
Following the green arrows plastered on the pavement, that takes us to the assembly area for each grade: I trotted to my station along the raised paved path where students walk in line to their cars.
On my trot, I heard a faint, “Hello Ms. Juliette.”
I stopped and noticed my student, with a woman that looked like his mother, (a parent I have chatted with on Zoom a couple of times) and his sister.
This is the first week of face to face school, it is also the first time his mother has seen me, away from the screen. I’m sure O had tapped his mother;
“Mum this is Ms. Juliette.”
Mother had a smile in her eyes and whispered daintily, “Thank you Ms. Juliette.”
As sweet as her son, I could tell where he acquired his passion and love of people and school.
It was a few seconds and a few words but that meant everything. I waved, mimed, “thank you too” and ran off for my duty.
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