For the rest of the year, he consumed me. I prayed for him on my way home. I talked to my husband each night about his day. I went to sleep thinking about him, and he was the first thought that passed through my mind the next morning. How could I love him better? How could He know Love because of me? How could I break through those walls he built to protect himself? And show him that he didn’t have to walk through life alone?
That kid with the story, he changed me.
By March, his little brown hand always found its place in mine. His tantrums still were happening, but he trusted me enough to get through them faster. In May, after MAP testing, I was amazed at his progress. I don’t know how that kid, or all the other kids in my class learned a thing that year. But they did.